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The    Yensie   Walton    Books. 

These  books,  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  S.  R.  Graham  Clark,  are  possessed 
of  such  conspicuous  merits,  as  to  secure  for  them  the  unqualified  com 
mendation  of  eminent  religious  journals  such  as  the  Central  Christian 
Advocate,  The  Journal  and  Messenger,  The  New  Orleans  Christian 
Advocate,  The  Lutheran  Observer,  Christian  at  Work.  The  Dover 
Morning  Star,  The  Gospel  Banner,  Philadelphia  Methodist,  Herald 
and  Presbyter, 

YENSIE  WALTON.  .          OUR  STREET. 

YENSIE  WALTON'S  WOMAMHOOD. 
THE  TRIPLE  E.  ACHOR. 

i2mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  uniform  binding,  $1.50  each. 
YENSIE  WALTON. 

"  Yensie  Walton,"  by  Mrs.  S.  R.  Graham  Clark.  Boston  :  D.  Lotb- 
rop  &  Co.  Full  of  striking  incident  and  scenes  of  great  pathos,  with 
occasional  gleams  of  humor  and  fun  by  way  of  relief  to  the  more  tragic 
parts  of  the  narrative.  The  characters  are  strongly  drawn,  and,  in  gen 
eral,  are  thoroughly  human,  not  gifted  with  impossible  perfections,  but 
having  those  infirmities  of  the  flesh  which  make  us  all  akin.  It  will  take 
rank  among  the  best  and  most  popular  Sunday-school  books. —  Episcopal 
Register. 

A  pure  sweet  story  of  girl  life,  quiet,  and  yet  of  sufficient  interest  to  hold 
the  attention  of  the  most  careless  reader. — Zion's  Advocate. 
YENSIE  WALTON'S  WOMANHOOD. 

The  many  readers  who  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  "  Yensie  Wal 
ton  "  in  one  of  the  best  Sunday-school  books  ever  published,  will  be  de 
lighted  tor^new  that  acquaintance,  and  to  keep  their  former  companion 
still  further  company  through  life.  There  is  a  strong  religious  tone  to  the 
whole  story,  and  its  teachings  of  morality  and  religion  are  pure  and 
healthful  and  full  of  sweetness  and  beauty.  The  story  is  a  worthy  suc 
cessor  to  Mrs.  Clark's  previous  work. — Boston  fas/. 

The  heroine  is  an  excellent  character  for  imitation,  and  the  entire  atmos 
phere  of  the  book  is  healthful  and  purifying. — Pittsbitrg  Christian  Advo 
cate. 
OUR  STREET, 

By  the  same  author,  is  a  capital  story  of  every  day  life  which  deals  with 
genuine  character  in  a  most  interesting  manner. 

THE  TRIPLE  E, 

Just  published,  is  a  book  whose  provoking  title  will  be  at  once  acknowl 
edged  by  the  reader  as  an  appropriate  one.     It  fully  sustains  the  author's 
reputation. 
ACHOR,  a  new  book  in  press. 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  Publishers,  Boston. 


Away  sped  the  little  girl.    Page  12. 


YENSIE    WALTON. 


BY 

MRS.  S.  R.  GRAHAM   CLARK. 


"  Be  like  the  bird,  who,  halting  in  her  flight 

Awhile  on  bough  too  slight, 
Feels  it  give  way  beneath,  and  yet  sings , 
Knowing  that  she  hath  wings." 


BOSTON: 
D.  LOTHROP  AND  COMPANY, 

FRANKLIN  ST.,  COBNEB  OF  HAWLEY. 


Copyright  by 

V.   LOTHROP  AND  COMPANYj 
187* 


TS 

^ 
0 


To 
MY    WIDOWED    MOTHER, 

This  book  is  affectionately  inscribed  by  one  who  under  God, 
owes  all  she  is,  to  that  tireless  mother-energy,  super 
human  love  and  self-sacrificing  devotion  which 
through  great  tribulation  guided  seven 
pairs  of  restless  feet,  shielded 
seven  defenceless  heads. 

SUSIE  K.  GBAHAM  CLARK. 


YENSIE     WALTON. 


CHAPTER    I. 


"  The  full,  warm  gushings  of  thy  heart 
Were  chilled  like  fount-drops,  frozen  as  they  start" 

—  MOOBE. 


r~  ^ 

ORE,  work,  work  !  Yes,  Mrs.  Sarah  Wal 
ton  knew  what  that  meant ;  piles  of 
snowy  linen  and  home-made  socks,  stores 
of  sweet  cheese  and  golden  butter,  full  graneries, 
well-stocked  farms,  and  money  in  the  bank. 

"Work  meant  all  this  to  her ;  but  books ! 
pshaw !  What  were  they  good  for  anyway,  but 
show.  Men  with  plenty  of  money  ;  girls  and  boys 
inheriting  wealth,  might  indulge  in  them,  just  to 
make  a  figure  in  the  world,  but  they  were  not 
bread  and  butter  by  any  means. 
9 


10  TENSIE  WALTON. 

Now  her  Mildred  and  Fred,  they'd  need  an 
education ;  they'd  be  worth  quite  a  little,  some 
day  —  but  what  in  the  world  did  a  penniless  orphan 
like  her  husband's  niece  want  of  books  ?  Nobody 
was  laying  up  dollars  for  her ;  she'd  better  be 
learning  to  work. 

All  this  vigorous  thinking  being  done,  was 
"aided  by  vigorous  attacks  on  the  pile  of  well- 
folded  clothes  waiting  for  ironing,  and  ended  by 
a  hasty  plunge  to  the  foot  of  the  narrow  stairs 
and  a  shrill : 

"  Yens,  Yens,  what  on  airth  air  you  up  to  all 
this  time  ?  Ef  you  tech  a  book  to-day  I'll  make 
your  back  smart.  Is  them  beds  made  yet?  " 

"How  much  would  you  give  to  know,  Mrs. 
Sail  ?  You're  a  Yank,  I  should  think  you  could 
guess." 

It  was  unmistakeably  a  very  saucy  voice  that 
spoke;  it  was  unmistakeably  a  very  saucy  face 
that  peered  over  the  banister.  A  small  face  — 
not  small  however  because  God  had  framed  it 
so  —  but  because  something  this  side  of  its  fram 
ing  had  pinched  it  unmercifully.  A  pair  of  the 
blackest  of  black  eyes  flashed  out  from  the  face ; 
the  knottiest  knots  of  chestnut  curls  ever  seen 
crowned  it ;  and  a  nose — not  the  largest  nose  in 
the  world,  or  the  smallest  nose  in  the  world 
— twisted  itself  into  a  variety  of  funny  shapes 
as  she  looked  at  the  woman  —  shapes  that  would 
have  been  laughable  had  they  not  been  so  exaspera 
ting. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  11 

"Come  down  here,"  cried  the  angry  woman. 
"I'll  teach  you  to  be  sassy  to  your  betters." 

"  Will  you,  will  you,"  moving  her  head  from  side 
to  side.  "  Look  out,  I'm  coming,  "  swinging  her 
arms,  as  if  about  to  spring.  "  What  if  I  should 
jump  on  top  of  your  head  ?  I'd  try,  but  I'm  afraid 
of  catching  afire.  Aunt  Sail,  why  doesn't  your 
head  burn  up ;  it's  been  afire  long  enough?  " 

Mrs.  Walton's  face  grew  nearly  as  red  as  her 
hair  at  this  reference  to  its  color,  and  she  made  a 
dash  up  over  the  stairs  after  the  offender. 

But  the  child  was  ready  for  this  and  evaded  her 
grasp,  running  to  the  farther  corner  of  the  hall. 

When  her  aunt  sprang  after  her  she  stooped  sud 
denly,  dodged  from  under  the  out-spread  hands,  and 
the  exasperated  woman  reached  the  top  of  the  stair 
just  as  the  little  girl,  having  slid  down  the  banister, 
laughed  up  from  below. 

"  The  old  Nick  himself  is  in  that  one,  "  growled 
Mrs.  Walton  as  she  hurried  over  the  stairs ;  but,  as 
she  entered  the  kitchen  the  child's  dress  was  just 
disappearing  through  the  door, — a  sweet  fresh  baby 
face  vanishing  with  it. 

A  moment  after  the  woman  heard  a  really  sweet 
voice  from  under  the  budding  lilac  trees  chanting 
in  no  under-tone : 

"  Aunt  Sail  is  awful  inad, 
What  shall  we  send  her  ? 
A  box  of  pills  to  cure  her  ills, 
And  a  slice  of  good-nature. 
What  shall  we  send  it  in  ?" 


12  YENSIE  WALTON. 

But  Yensie's  rhyming  was  destined  to  end  sud« 
denly ;  her  aunt,  fully  determined  to  chastise  her 
this  time,  dashed  down  the  yard. 

Down  went  baby  Maude  on  the  grass  and 
away  sped  the  little  girl,  the  tall,  gaunt  woman  flying 
behind.  Aunt  Sarah  Walton  should  have  known, 
after  six  months'  experience,  that  she  was  no  match 
for  the  agility  of  this  child. 

What  a  race  she  did  lead  her.  Down  through 
the  garden,  across  the  lot,  into  the  orchard, 
around  by  the  brook,  then  back  to  the  yard  again, 
only  at  last  to  find  herself  beneath  a  tall  cherry 
tree,  and  the  young  monkey  laughing  and  chatter 
ing  to  her  from  the  topmost  bough. 

It  was  no  sort  of  use,  she  might  as  well  give  her 
up  this  time,  as  the  irons  were  over-heating  in  the 
kitchen.  Dinner  hour  would  find  her  with  the 
ironing  undone ;  so  the  tired  and  chagrined 
woman  turned  to  the  house,  after  shaking  her  fist 
several  times  up  the  tree. 

"  Wouldn't  you  like  to  ?  "  said  the  child,  tanta- 
lizingly. 

"  Come  down,  or  I'll  kill  you  when  I  do  ketch 
you,"  was  the  reply. 

"  No,  I  thank  you ;  I'd  rather  be  killed  outright, 
than  pounded  to  jelly.  Good  morning,  Mrs.  Sail." 

Mr.  Walton,  coming  through  the  yard,  saw  the 
latter  part  of  this  scene  and  quite  understood  it. 
He  stopped  beneath  the  tree. 

"  What !  you  ain't  naughty  again,  Yensie  ?  " 


YENSEE  WALTON.  13 

*'  O  no,  Uncle.  It's  the  old  naughty  not  gono 
yet.  I'll  never  get  any  more  when  this  is  gone  ;  but 
it  is  a  long  piece  and  stretches.  O,  Uncle  John,  a 
whole  nest  full  of  robin's  eggs !  Listen  and  I'll 
show  you  how  they'll  sing  in  a  few  weeks ;"  and 
then  began  such  a  chirping  and  twittering  as  would 
have  been  creditable  to  any  nest  of  robins,  and 
set  Mr.  Walton  laughing  in  spite  of  himself. 

The  smile  was  still  on  his  face  as  he  entered  the 
house. 

"  That's  right,  John  Walton,  that's  right,  laugh  at 
her !"  said  his  excited  wife.  "  I'd  a  brought  her  to 
terms  before  this  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you.  You 
uphold  her  in  all  she  does." 

"  Now  Sally,  now  Sally,  that  isn't  quite  fair," 
began  the  man  deprecatingly.  "  I  have  tried  my 
best  to  have  her  mind  *you ;  but  who  could  help 
laughing  and  she  chirping  and  twittering  away  like 
a  whole  nest  full  of  robins  ?  I  think  the  fault  is 
with  your  management,  Sarah.  She  was  good  and 
quiet  enough  when  she  first  came  here,  and  Robert 
said  a  better  child  never  lived." 

Sarah  Walton's  nose  gave  a  very  significant 
snort,  her  shoulders  a  very  significant  shrug : 

"  Then  saints  do  lie  !  for  that's-  an  out-and-outer, 
if  Robert  Walton  did  say  so.  " 

"  Sarah,  you're  speaking  of  the  dead ; "  reproach- 
fully. 

"  Dead  or  no  dead  it's  a  lie.  That's  the  sassiest 
good-for-nothin'est,  most  mischief-making  imp  I  ever 


14  YENSIE  WALTON. 

saw,  I  wish  I  had  let  her  die,  when  she  had  the 
fever.  Look  at  my  morning's  ironing !  The  very 
old  Satan's  in  her  that's  a  fact."  And  John  Walton 
sighed  as  he  left  the  room  without  another  word. 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  within 
the  house,  the  little  girl  had  descended  from  her 
lofty  perch,  and  resumed  her  seat  beside  the  baby. 

While  she  sits  musing  under  the  lilac  boughs,  let 
us  take  a  short  retrospect  of  her  life. 

John  and  Robert  Walton  were  the  two  sons  of  a 
sturdy  farmer  and  tenderly  attached  to  each  other, 
though  differing  widely  both  mentally  and  physic 
ally.  John  being  very  short,  stout,  blue-eyed  and 
sandy-whiskered,  and  a  natural  farmer ;  his  brother 
tall,  slender,  dark-eyed  and  dark-haired,  and  a  man 
of  books. 

They  were  both  intelligent ;  but  John  was  quite 
satisfied  with  a  common  school  education,  Robert 
hardly  content  with  a  college  course.  Soon  after  his 
graduation  however  Robert  married  Yensie's  mother 
and  went  with  her  to  England,  her  native  land, 
which  she  had  left  two  years  before  to  travel 
with  an  invalid  mother,  then  buried  beneath  Amer 
ican  soil. 

After  years  of  childlessness  Yensie  had  come  to 
cheer  the  old  mansion-house  for  many  years  the 
abode  of  her  ancestors.  But  alas,  the  day  whose 
dawning  opened  the  babe's  eyes  to  the  light  of  time 
wafted  the  mother-spirit  at  even-tide,  to  the  bosom 
of  eternity,  and  there  was  left  instead  of  a  childless 


YENSIE  WALTON.  15 

wife,  a  motherless  child  to  battle  with  life's  certain 
ties  of  pain  and  grievings.  The  mother  had  whispered 
in  her  last  hour  the  name  she  would  have  her  child 
bear,  "  Elsie."  The  father  thought  the  word  that 
faltered  on  her  tongue,  and  this  had  bSen  her  grand 
mother's  name ;  old  nurse  Ann,  who  had  borne  the 
dying  woman  in  her  arms  oft  as  a  helpless  babe, 
thought  she  said  "  Yensie  ;  "  but  even  as  the  word 
hung  trembling  on  the  stiffening  lips,  they  were 
touched  to  sweeter  melody,  and  she  entered  the 
gates  of  glory  singing  the  song  of  the  redeemed. 

The  stricken  man  turned  all  the  channels  of  his 
affection  upon  his  little  motherless  babe,  and  after 
she  grew  old  enough  to  know  his  voice,  to  call  his 
name  and  listen  for  his  step,  she  was  with  him 
almost  constantly. 

Yensie,  old  nurse  persisted  in  calling  her,  and 
soon  it  was  adopted  by  all  others.  As  she  grew 
older  her  father  tired  more  and  more  of  active  life  ; 
his  health  too  grew  slender  and  gradually  he  re 
signed  one  care  after  another  until  his  entire  bus 
iness  was  entrusted  to  a  partner.  His  child  now — 
next  to  his  God — was  his  life,  and  for  her  and  her 
comfort  and  advancement,  he  planned  continually. 

As  years  passed  by,  this  father  perceived  that  his 
child  was  rarely  gifted.  All  the  talents  of  both  her 
parents  seemed  concentrated  and  enlarged  in  her. 
She  inherited  her  mother's  musical  voice  with  great 
er  compass,  and  sweeter,  fuller  cadence  ;  her  father's 
love  of  books,  and  as  well  a  marvellous  insight  into 


16  TENSIB  WALTON. 

thought,  for  one  so  young,  and  a  poet's  quick  intui 
tion  of  the  beautiful.  Her  tastes  were  grand  and 
pure,  her  imagination  rich  and  vivid ;  and  before  the 
diversified  gifts  of  his  offspring  he  often  stood 
amazed.  She  was  his  companion  constantly,  shar 
ing  his  pleasures  and  studies,  learning  early  many 
things  which  age  seldom  acquires,  while  totally  ig 
norant  of  much  which  children  generally  know. 

Thus  Yensie's  sliort  eight  years  had  passed,  amid 
all  the  luxuries  with  which  wealth  and  taste  could 
surround  her,  flattered  by  the  servants,  petted  by 
friends,  the  pride  and  delight  of  her  father.  Is  it 
wonder  that,  unperceived  by  her  indulgent  pa 
rent,  the  seeds  of  pride  and  arrogance  were  being 
sown  ?  Always  gentle  and  affectionate,  her  father 
never  dreamed  of  the  depths  of  passion  beneath 
that  calm  exterior  waiting  but  the  finger  of  adver 
sity  to  be  roused  into  a  burning  flame ;  a  sleeping 
demon  needing  but  the  chafing  and  friction  of 
Valley  Farm  to  rouse  him  into  action. 

What  this  father's  dreams  concerning  his  child 
had  been,  as  day  after  day,  she  sat  at  his  feet  in 
the  quaint,  old-fashioned  library,  who  can  tell? 
Enough  to  know  they  were  blasted.  A  day  of  ca 
lamity  was  upon  them. 

One  morning  Robert  Walton  woke,  like  many 
another  wealthy  man,  to  find  himself  penniless. 
In  a  time  of  general  business  depression,  when 
men  were  losing  largely  through  bank  failures,  he 
found  his  partner  had  indulged  in  large  and  rash 


YENSIE  WALTON.  17 

speculations,  and  that  he  could  not  weather  the 
storm,  but  was  hopelessly  involved. 

After  days  and  nights  of  unwearied  research  he 
found  his  house  must  go  also ;  that  his  child  was 
well  nigh  penniless. 

Was  it  the  mental  exertion,  the  suddenness  of 
the  shock,  that  hastened  disease  in  its  ravages  ? 
Certain  it  is  he  was  taken  immediately  to  his  bed, 
never  to  rise  again. 

Through  all  his  sickness  his  little  girl  was  with 
him  constantly,  tending  him  with  unwearied  care, 
soothing  him  by  her  touch  when  all  others  failed ; 
the  promise  of  a  noble  womanhood,  her  father 
thought  as  he  watched  her  flitting  hither  and 
thither  so  noiselessly,  or  felt  her  cool,  soft  hand 
upon  his  brow. 

How  anxious  she  was  that  he  should  get  well  I 
If  only  he  did  not  die !  She  did  not  understand 
death,  had  never  looked  on  it ;  but  she  felt  it  was 
something  fearful,  and  remembering  her  mother's 
grave,  pictured  one  beside  it  and  shuddered. 

A  day  came  when  every  heart  in  the  great  house 
sank  for  the  little  one  who  so  patiently  watched,  so 
hopefully  waited  to  see  "  papa  well."  For  the  phy 
sician  had  said  "no  hope,"  and  she  was  the  only 
one  in  all  the  house  who  did  not  know  it. 

Her  father  had  expected  death  and  sent  weeks 
before  for  her  uncle  ;  and  now  he  prayed  earnestly 
that  he  might  come  before  he  should  die.  And 
John  Walton  came ;  but  only  a  few  hours  before 


18  YENSIE   WALTON. 

that  other  expected  guest  who  wears  so  cold  a  face, 
so  relentless  a  brow.  Just  long  enough  to  receive 
the  parting  instructions  of  his  brother  in  respect 
to  his  child,  and  a  small  sum  of  money  saved  from 
the  wreck,  with  which  to  educate  her ;  to  hold  the 
dying  head  upon  his  breast  and  close  the  soulless 
eyes. 

Poor  little  Yensie  !  With  her  ardent  tempera 
ment  there  were  no  half-loves,  no  midway  griefs. 
Life  of  her  little  life  had  been  this  father-love,  and 
her  sorrow,  though  silent,  was  terrible  in  the  in 
roads  it  made  even  on  her  frame.  She  reached 
Valley  Farm  only  to  be  laid  low  with  brain  fever, 
her  life  endangered  many  weeks. 

'Twas  on  the  old  dining-room  settle,  while  con 
valescing,  that  she  made  her  first  real  acquaint 
ance  with  the  inhabitants  of  the  red  farm  house. 
Let  us  take  a  peep  at  them  also,  reader. 

Dear,  easy-going  Uncle  John  was  very  unlike 
his  wife  in  disposition.  Tall,  lank  and  wiry,  the 
machinery  of  life  with  her  was  never  well-oiled, 
and  always  squeaked  unmercifully.  She  was 
noted  miles  around  for  her  tongue,  and  few  who 
had  ever  come  in  contact  with  it  desired  to  make 
further  acquaintance. 

It  was  a  common  threat  with  her :  "  If  they  feel 
the  weight  of  my  tongue." 

Now  whether  the  actual  weight  of  her  tongue 
had  ever  been  ascertained,  is  at  this  day  uncertain ; 
but  this  one  fact  is  incontestible,  the  neighbors 


YENSIE   WALTON.  19 

universally  avoided  her,  and  when  thrown  in  her 
company  were  very  conciliatory  in  their  manners 
and  remarks.  From  which  we  may  at  least  judge 
that  whether  her  tongue  was  as  weighty  as  she 
supposed,  it  was  duly  appreciated. 

As  it  was  fall  when  Yensie  first  arrived  at  Val 
ley  Farm,  there  was  but  one  man  on  the  place  be 
side  her  uncle  :  "  Jinks  "  as  he  was  called.  A  dis 
tant  relative  of  her  father's,  and  a  valuable  farm 
hand.  A  dark-browed,  stern  man,  he  was,  of 
thirty,  or  thereabouts,  whom  everybody  seemed  to 
avoid,  and  whom  she  soon  began  to  shun  and 
dread.  Not  that  he  treated  her  ill  —  he  never  ap 
peared  to  notice  her  —  but  because,  like  a  dark 
cloud,  he  obscured  the  sky  whenever  he  ap 
proached. 

Beside  these  were  three  children :  Milty,  a 
pretty  child  of  six  summers,  with  blue  eyes  and 
loose  brown  curls  and  blooming  face;  Fred,  a 
merry,  brown-eyed  boy  of  three,  crowned  with  his 
mother's  red  hair ;  and  wee  Maude,  a  sweet,  frag 
ile,  blue-eyed  babe  of  four  months,  soon  the  com 
fort  and  joy  of  the  lonely  orphan  to  whose  charge 
she  was  generally  committed. 

It  did  not  take  Yensie  long  to  discover  that  her 
uncle  was  not  master  of  his  own  house,  but  that 
his  wife  tyrannized  over  him  as  she  did  over  all 
others,  and  unconsciously  she  felt  an  almost  con- 


20 


YENSIB    WALTON. 


temptuous  pity  for  him.  Little  Mildred,  indeed, 
was  the  real  ruler  of  the  house  ;  to  her  even  Mrs. 
Walton  bowed,  and  toward  her  ere  long  our  little 
fri««wl  entertained  a  dislike  nearly  akin  to  hatred. 


CHAPTER    II. 


"  O  nature  !  is  there  naugbt  to  prize, 
Familiar  in  thy  bosom  scenes  of  life  ?  " 

—  CAMPBELL. 


PRIL,  with  its  sunny  skies  and  sudden 
showers,  its  smiles  and  tears  —  fit  em 
blem  of  life — came  and  went.  May, 
with  her  budding  trees  and  opening  flowers,  lin 
gered  awhile  and  departed.  And  June,  tender- 
eyed,  beautiful  in  her  young  womanhood,  entered 
the  year  with  trailing  vines  and  beauteous  flowers, 
radiant  with  sunshine,  welcomed  by  sweetest  mu 
sic,  and  wafted  along  by  breezes  soft  as  a  mother's 
touch,  and  glad  as  infant  melody. 

With  what  a  wondrous  glory  did  this  queen  of 
months  surround  the  old  red  farm-house  !     Yensie 
almost  held  her  breath  with  delight  as  she  looked 
21 


22  YENSIE  WALTON. 

from  her  window  that  first  June  morning,  and  be 
held  the  glorious  prospect. 

A  lovely  scene,  indeed,  spread  out  before  her ! 
Valley  Farm  it  had  well  been  called,  for  all  about 
rose  green-capped  hills,  studded  now  with  dande 
lion  blossoms;  and  beyond,  in  the  distance,  she 
could  catch  a  glimpse  of  mountain  tops  rising  dim 
and  grey  in  the  early  light. 

Directly  in  front  of  her  window  emerald  fields, 
gay  too  with  flowers  stretched  themselves,  and  be 
yond  there  lay  a  belt  of  woods  every  day  unfold 
ing  new  beauties  to  this  child  of  nature. 

She  could  hear,  as  she  leaned  from  the  open 
window,  the  gentle  murmur  of  the  little  stream, 
which,  rising  in  a  distant  hill-top,  wound  through 
her  uncle's  farm,  finding  its  way  to  the  little  vil 
lage  where  it  turned  the  great  wheel  of  the  grist 
mill. 

The  village !  Yes,  she  could  see  it  from  her 
lofty  perch.  And  how  pretty  it  looked  with  its 
neat  white  cottages  nestled  beneath  the  trees,  its 
variety  store  and  grocerj^,  dignified,  too,  by  a  white 
sign  on  which  "  Post-office  "  was  printed  in  large 
black  letters.  Then  there  was  the  little  church,  of 
which  the  villagers  were  so  justly  proud,  erected 
by  the  owner  of  the  great  house  of  Wynn,  and 
lifting  a  spire,  which  would  vie  with  any  for  miles 
around,  to  the  early  morning  sun. 

She  could  see  good  Dr.  Morse's  "  grey-front," 
and  Squire  Grey's  brown  one ;  and  beyond  all 


YENSIE   WALTON.  23 

these,  perched  on  the  hill,  the  great  white  "  Man 
sion  House,"  as  it  was  usually  called,  looking  very 
cold  and  stiff  and  proud,  she  fancied,  as  if  saying 
to  the  dwellings  beneath  it :  "I  am  king  here,  be 
hold  me  ! '' 

This  house,  she  had  been  told,  was  seldom  in 
habited  by  other  than  the  housekeeper  and  a  few 
servants,  in  the  winter  season,  but  was  wont  to  be 
very  gay  when  warm  weather  set  in.  She  had 
heard  her  aunt  questioning  her  husband  only  a 
few  days  before  as  to  whether  Mr.  Robinson,  the 
present  owner  of  the  house,  had  arrived;  and 
wondered  if  he  was  very  different  from  those  about 
her.  Her  father  had  been  different ;  what  made 
him  so,  he  was  Uncle  John's  brother?  Was  all 
the  difference  in  education  ?  Was  she  to  be  left 
ignorant  and  uncultured,  to  grow  up  like  Aunt 
Sarah  ?  She  shuddered  at  the  thought ;  to  her 
this  was  the  calamity  of  calamities. 

Quietly  she  dressed,  and  taking  her  sun-bonnet, 
sought  the  fields,  her  heart  still  heavy  with  its  fear. 
She  was  not  generally  the  outspoken,  saucy  little 
girl  of  our  introduction.  Only  on  odd  occasions, 
when  driven  out  of  herself,  she  conducted  thus. 
Naturally,  she  was  far  more  wont  to  think  than 
speak,  to  muse  than  give  vent  to  her  feelings; 
and  many  t \vice  her  age  could  scarce  appreciate 
the  anguish  of  the  ambitious  child  as  she  brooded 
over  her  ignorance  this  sunny  morn. 

But  there  was  something  in  nature  that  always 


24  YENSIE  WALTON. 

appealed  to  the  heart  of  this  child, —  a  quieting 
soothing  influence  it  held  over  her.  She  alwaj^s 
felt,  after  a  ramble  in  the  woods,  as  some  people 
do  after  reading  the  Bible ;  that  she  wished  to  be 
better.  Now,  as  she  stood  beneath  the  grand  old 
trees,  with  unconscious  reverence  she  took  her 
bonnet  from  her  head,  and  lifting  her  face  to  the 
skies,  repeated  the  beautiful  words  listened  to, 
Sabbath  after  Sabbath,  in  her  far  away  home : 
"  The  Lord  is  in  his  holy  temple,  let  all  the  earth 
keep  silence  before  him." 

Yensie  was  not  alone  ;  she  had  a  listener,  a  lad 
of  some  fifteen  years  of  age,  perhaps  —  slight  and 
well-dressed,  with  a  bright,  dark,  handsome  face, 
roguish  black  eyes  (very  quiet  now,  however,) 
and  a  head  as  curly  as  her  own.  He  had  been  re 
garding  her  for  some  time,  and  now  said,  abruptly: 

"Little  girl,  do  you  think  God  is  really  here, 
that  you  speak  in  that  tone  ?  " 

How  the  child  started  !  What  eyes,  filled  with 
pleasure  and  surprise,  she  turned  to  him  !  What 
was  it  caused  that  thrill  of  joy  to  pass  through  her 
soul  at  the  sound  of  his  voice  ?  Why,  with  its 
first  intonation  had  come  remembrances  of  father, 
home,  and  the  blessed  associations  of  the  past? 
Had  Yensie  been  older  she  would  have  known  that 
it  was  education,  culture,  good-breeding,  that  gave 
his  voice  its  peculiar  charm.  As  it  was,  she  could 
think  of  but  one  cause,  and  turning  her  eyes  full 
on  the  lad,  she  asked  in  joyous  tremulousness : 


YENSIB  WALTON.  25 

"  Why,  when  did  you  leave  England  ?  " 

Poor  little  puzzled  Yensie !  She  was  quite 
taken  aback  by  the  merry,  ringing  laugh  which 
greeted  her  question ;  a  laugh  repeated  over  and 
over  again,  gaining  fresh  impulses  from  every 
glimpse  of  her  troubled  face. 

"  O,  you  strange  little  elf !  What  made  you  ask 
such  a  question  ?  1  never  saw  England  in  my 
life,"  he  said  at  length,  when  quieted. 

"  Never  saw  England  !  "  What  consternation 
Yensie's  features  betrayed.  "  Where  did  you  come 
from  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  was  dropped  from  the  clouds  during  the 
rain  storm  night  before  last,  and  have  put  up  at 
the  mansion  house  ever  since,"  he  laughed. 

"  There,  don't  get  offended,  little  Englishee," 
seeing  the  indignant  child  about  to  turn  away.  "  I 
came  from  New  York  night  before  last,  am  visit 
ing  my  Uncle  Robinson  at  the  mansion  house.  I 
am  going  to  remain  a  few  weeks  before  starting 
for  school ;  suppose  you  and  I  become  friends?" 

But  the  little  girl  was  regarding  him  almost  sor 
rowfully  : 

"  And  you  are  an  American,  after  all,  she  said. 
"  I  didn't  think  you  could  be,  you  are  so  nice  and 
pretty." 

"  I  suppose  I  am  expected  to  take  that  as  a  com 
pliment,  you  little  bunch  of  prejudice.  Why 
should  you  think  an  American  gentleman  an  im 
possibility  ?  Who  brought  you  up,  I  should  like 
to  know  ?  "  cried  the  boy. 


26  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  My  father  brought  me  up,  and  he  was  a  gen 
tleman,"  replied  the  child  with  dignity. 

"  And  he  taught  you  to  consider  all  Americans 
as  a  sort  of  barbarians,  lacking  culture  and  refine 
ment —  almost  civilization" — he  said  hotly. 

"  No,  he  did  not,"  cried  the  little  girl,  stamping 
her  foot  indignantly.  He  was  an  American  him 
self,  and  knew  more  than  any  one  I  ever  saw.  He 
loved  America  and  wanted  me  to,  but  I  can't,  I 
can't.  I  am  only  a  poor,  wicked  little  girl  here  ; 
I  wish  I  was  back  in  England,  close  by  his  grave. 
O  papa,  papa !  "  and  throwing  herself  on  the  wet 
grass  she  sobbed. 

The  boy  had  a  tender  heart.  He  stooped  and 
laid  his  hand  gently  on  her  brown  head,  whisper 
ing: 

"  Don't  cry,  little  girl." 

But  she  stopped  him  fiercely. 

"  Go  away,"  she  cried,  lifting  her  red  eyes  to  his 
face ;  "  go  away  !  You  know  I  don't  want  you  to 
watch  me.  You  are  like  all  the  rest  of  them,  if 
you  are  handsome !  Go  away,  I  hope  I  shall 
never  see  you  again ;  "  and  turning  about  with  a 
half-laugh,  he  departed. 

This  June  day  was  destined  to  be  a  day  of  trial 
to  our  little  friend,  yet  it  ended  pleasantly.  Her 
uncle  told  her  that  night  that  he  had  been  to  the 
village  to  see  Miss  Gray,  the  school  teacher,  and 
that  early  on  the  morrow  he  would  drive  her  over 
to  be  examined,  and  then  to  the  city  to  buy  her 


YENSIE  WALTON.  27 

books ;  and  she  fell  to  sleep  with  a  glow  in  her 
heart  not  there  for  months. 

Fierce,  indeed,  had  been  Mrs.  Walton's  opposi 
tion  when  her  husband  first  spoke  of  his  plans  in 
respect  to  the  education  of  his  niece.  But  the 
man  was  prepared  for  opposition,  and  met  it  in  a 
way  quite  unusual.  Quietly,  yet  firmly,  he  told 
her  his  purposes  could  not  be  shaken,  and  met  her 
wrathy  words  with  so  imperturbable  a  front  that 
she  withdrew  behind  a  sullen  countenance,  and 
neither  heard  or  saw  more. 

The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  all  in  a  flut 
ter  of  excitement,  Yensie  clambered  to  her  attic 
room  to  prepare  herself  for  a  visit  to  the  village 
school.  It  was  so  delightful,  this  thought  of 
school  and  books ;  even  Aunt  Sarah's  frowning 
face  had  been  powerless  to  disturb  her  joy. 

The  first  sober  look  came  with  sight  of  her 
dress,  that  did  not  suit  her  at  all.  It  was  an  un 
gainly  thing  at  best ;  and  to  one  used  to  wearing 
beautiful,  tasteful  garments,  positively  repulsive. 
She  never  put  it  on  without  realizing  that  it  was 
ill-shapen  and  too  long,  and  made  her  look  awk 
ward  ;  but  what  could  she  do,  it  was  all  she  had  ? 

She  brushed  and  combed  faithfully  at  the  tangle 
of  curls  so  unused  to  care,  and  then,  donning  the 
despised  dress,  surveyed  herself  in  the  little  bit  of 
cracked  glass  she  used  for  a  mirror. 

She  was  quite  in  despair  at  her  appearance  after 
all  her  labor.  That  hateful,  dark  calico  dress,  un- 


28  YENSIE   WALTON. 

relieved  by  even  a  bit  of  lace  in  the  neck,  was  just 
.horrid ;  and  the  little  thin  face  looked  to  her 
smaller  and  homelier  than  ever,  with  the  masses  of 
bushy  hair  standing  out  all  about  it,  and  the  great 
distended,  vexed  eyes  looking  so  dolefully  about. 

"  It  isn't  a  bit  of  use  to  try  to  be  like  any  one 
else,"  she  cried,  desperately.  "  Aunt  Sarah  won't 
curl  my  hair,  I  know,  and  I  can't  wear  it  this  way. 
I'm  a  great  mind  to  cut  it  all  off.  I  will !  "  —  des 
perately.  And  so  it  happened  that  when  Uncle 
John  peeped  under  the  sun-bonnet  waiting  for  him 
at  the  door,  he  found  a  little  "  croppy  boy,"  as  he 
laughingly  declared,  instead  of  his  curly-haired 
niece. 

Very  pleasant  was  the  ride  to  the  village,  and 
not  altogether  unpleasant  was  the  visit  to  the 
school-room.  For,  though  the  sensitive  child 
could  not  be  unconscious  of  the  curious,  amused 
glances  of  the  scholars  at  her  appearance,  she  for 
got  her  discomfiture  in  Miss  Grey's  kind  greeting, 
and  yielded  her  heart  and  hand  together,  that  first 
moment,  into  the  lady's  keeping. 

A  strange  examination  it  proved.  Yensie's  en 
tire  ignorance  of  arithmetic,  and  many  things 
known  by  her  youngest  pupils,  astonishing  the 
teacher  not  more  than  her  singular  acquaintance 
with  history  and  nature,  and  her  rare  expression 
in  reading.  The  rich,  full  voice,  the  pure,  sweet 
tones,  the  perfect  accent  and  pronunciation, 
charmed  the  lady ;  and  no  praise  could  have  been 


YENSIE   WALTON.  W 

deaier  to  the  little   girl   than   that   accorded,  re 
flecting,  as  it  did,  honor  on  her  loved  father : 

"  Dear  child,  you  have  indeed  been  blessed  with 
a  teacher  of  no  common  attainments,  when  a  pupil 
of  your  age  can  appreciate*,  and  so  read  such 
poetry." 

What  a  wonderful  day  this  was,  altogether ! 
Green  forever  in  her  memory  I  That  long  ride  to 
the  city,  that  dinner  in  the  restaurant ;  then  to  be 
made  possessor  of  four  nice  books  and  a  slate ; 
and,  as  if  the  day  had  gone  mad  with  good  things, 
to  be  taken  into  a  dry-goods  establishment  and 
allowed  to  select  a  new  dress,  with  the  promise 
that  it  should  be  made  just  like  the  other  girls',  by 
Miss  Crane,  the  village  seamstress. 

Proud  was  the  heart  that  beat  in  the  bosom  of 
the  little  girl  as  she  rode  back  to  Wynn  that 
evening ;  for  in  her  pocket  lay  a  bright  cherry 
ribbon,  all  her  own,  purchased  by  her  uncle,  with 
sundry  wise  hints  as  to  keeping  it  "  safe  out  of 
Sally's  sight." 

Much  as  Yensie  desired  to  begin  study,  she 
would  gladly  have  deferred  going  until  her  new 
dress  was  completed,  remembering  the  smiles  and 
sneers  of  Miss  Grey's  pupils. 

Mr.  Walton  had  thought  of  this,  and  kindly 
suggested  that  she  should  delay  until  the  next 
Monday,  the  week  having  already  been  broken  up. 
But  Aunt  Sarah  had  no  idea  of  complying  with 
such  notions.  "  And  all  those  books  idle  that  coat 
such  money,  she  shouldn't  think  of  it." 


30  Y.ENSIE  WALTON. 

So  the  little  girl  was  bidden  to  prepare  herself. 

"  You  may  as  well  stop  on  your  way  and  be 
measured  for  your  dress,"  said  Mrs.  Walton,  as  the 
child  left  the  house ;  her  books  neatly  stowed 
away  in  a  gingham  bag  her  aunt  made  her  sew  up 
the  night  before,  while  she  covered  the  slate-frame 
and  books. 

All  the  way  down  the  garden-path  —  bag  in  one 
hand,  dinner-basket  in  the  other  —  Yensie  carried 
a  very  doleful  face,  her  eyes  resting  on  her  dress. 
But  on  reaching  the  lane  leading  from  the  house, 
she  was  surprised  at  sight  of  her  uncle. 

*'  I  had  corn  to  carry  to  the  mill,"  he  said,  "  and 
thought  I  would  give  you  a  lift,  and  stop  with  you 
at  Miss  Crane's,  to  hurry  her  a  bit  on  the  dress. 
Don't  look  so  unhappy,  little  girl ;  it  will  soon  be 
finished,  and  you're  brave  enough  to  stand  a  little 
laughing,  I  know." 

Mr.  Walton  did  as  he  said,  and  his  little  niece 
certainly  looked  relieved  when  she  heard  the 
dressmaker  assure  him  the  dress  should  be  made 
immediately  ;  but  the  cloud  began  to  settle  again, 
when  a  little  after,  he  left  her  a  few  yards  from 
the  school-house. 

"  Come,  come,"  he  said  jocosely,  "  you  don't  ex 
pect  your  old  uncle  to  go  to  schoo]  with  you ;  that 
would  make  the  girls  laugh,  to  be  sure.  Now, 
give  me  a  kiss  and  be  a  woman.  You're  worth 
half  a  dozen  of  those  little  fancy  misses  "  —  and 
he  was  gone. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  31 

The  little  girl  looked  after  him,  her  heart  beat 
ing  fast  with  fear  ;  but  she  proceeded  to  the  school 
house.  Standing  outside  the  door,  she  could  hear 
the  hum  of  voices,  and  knew  that  she  was  late. 
While  she  still  halted,  Miss  Grey  came  to  the 
door,  having  seen  a  shadow  flit  past  the  window. 

"  Why,  Yensie,  is  this  you  ?  I  had  given  you 
up  for  to-day.  You  are  a  little  late,  but  I  suppose 
I  must  excuse  you  as  you  are  a  new  scholar,  and 
unused  to  school  usages." 

"  I  had  to  stop  at  Miss  Crane's,  and  be  meas 
ured  for  a  dress,"  stammered  the  child.  And  Miss 
Grey,  saying  cheerfully,  " '  A  -poor  beginning 
makes  a  good  ending' ;  I  shall  expect  to  find  you 
in  season  hereafter,"  conducted  her  to  the  dress 
ing  room,  assigning  her  a  hook  for  her  bonnet. 

"  I  think  you  may  sit  with  Jennie  Mason.  Jen 
nie,  please  rise,  that  the  little  girl  may  see  where 
you  sit."  And  Yensie,  with  downcast  eyes  and 
blazing  cheeks,  made  her  way  through  the  curious 
eyes  to  her  seat. 


CHAPTER    III. 


"The  dark  clouds  are  breaking,  the  bent  bow  is  here." 


T  would  be  useless  to  follow  our  little 
friend  through  the  details  of  that  first 
day  at  school.  Not  naturally  either  awk 
ward  or  uncouth  (childhood  seldom  is)  a  sense  of 
her  personal  appearance  made  her  extremely  so, 
and  her  discomfort  was  great. 

Miss  Grey  noting  this,  and  hoping  to  divert  her 
attention,  and  prepare  her  for  a  happier  recess, 
bade  her  pupils  take  out  their  singing  books  just 
before  the  noon  dismissal. 

"Jennie,"   she    said,    "please   allow  your   seat- 
mate  to  share  3Tour  book.     In  making  out  her  list 
of  books,  the  singing-book  quite  escaped  me." 
The  little  orphan  listened  to  the  first  few  lines, 
32 


YENSIE   WALTON.  33 

every  nerve  thrilling  with,  delight.  Music  was 
rest,  comfort,  joy  to  her.  How  entranced  she  used 
to  sit  in  the  dim  old  English  Cathedral  when 
scarcely  past  babyhood,  listening  breathlessly  to 
the  grand  organ  whose  melody  seemed,  even  then, 
to  waft  her  beyond  earth.  Now,  as  she  listened  to 
this  childish  glee-song,  the  discomfiture  of  the 
morning  and  the  surrounding  faces,  were  all  for 
gotten,  as  she  joined  the  happy  strain. 

Miss  Grey's  quick  ear  caught  the  sweet,  pure 
tones.  The  voice,  so  rich,  so  full,  so  flexible,  in 
reading,  was  not  less  so  in  song.  Clear,  ringing, 
sweet,  it  led  all  the  rest  without  a  seeming  effort, 
filling  the  room  with  its  melody. 

The  delighted  teacher  smiled  as  she  caught  sight 
of  Jennie  Mason's  rapt  face,  with  its  open  mouth 
and  surprised  eyes,  fixed  full  on  the  unconscious 
singer. 

"Another  song,  I  think,  before  we  close,"  she 
said.  And  again  the  lady  listened  attentively, 
with  the  same  result ;  the  stranger's  voice  carrying, 
engulfing  all  the  rest;  and  with  a  little  sigh  of 
satisfaction,  Miss  Grey  dismissed  the  school  for  the 
noon  hour. 

Many  of  the  girls  living  in  the  immediate  neigh 
borhood  of  the  school,  went  home  to  dinner ;  yet 
many  more  had  brought  theirs,  as  had  our  little 
friend;  and  she  watched  them,  as  with  dinner 
pails  and  luncheon  baskets,  they  went  out,  one  by 
one,  leaving  her  alone  with  her  teacher. 


34  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"You  love  to  sing,  my  child,"  said  the  lad}r,  ap 
proaching  her.  "Your  voice  has  been  cultivated 
somewhat ;  you  read  music  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  replied  the  little  girl.  "  I  can 
scarcely  remember  when  I  did  not ;  but  I  had  for 
gotten  I  knew  how  to  sing,  it  is  so  long  since  I 
have  tried." 

"You  must  take  my  singing-book,"  her  teacher 
continued.  "  I  can  readily  get  another  ;  and  you 
must  sing  at  home.  It  will  help  you  and  help 
others.  But  now  you  must  go  out  to  play." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  go  out,"  said  Yensie,  shrinking 
back. 

"  But  I  shall  insist  on  your  going,  nevertheless." 
And  Yensie,  looking  up  into  the  pale,  sweet  face, 
saw  decision  written  there.  "  For  your  own  sake 
you  must  go  out.  You  are  none  too  rosy,  and 
have  been  confined  all  the  morning.  Then,  too,  I 
must  have  a  portion  of  this  hour  to  rest  myself ; 
afterwards,  I  will  join  you  in  the  pla}7-ground." 

Yensie  felt  it  would  be  quite  useless  to  protest 
further,  and  went  out. 

The  village  of  Wynn  might  reasonably  be  proud 
of  its  one  school-house ;  a  good,  substantial  brick 
building,  a  little  out  of  the  village,  in  an  opposite 
direction  from  Valley  Farm;  well-built,  well-ven 
tilated,  standing  in  the  midst  of  a  large  lot. 
There  the  sun  lay  all  day,  stealing  in  at  one  win 
dow  or  another. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  3o 

The  lot  immediately  about  the  building  had 
been  cleared  for  a  playground;  but  farther  back 
the  trees  and  bushes  clustered  closely  together, 
forming  a  delicious  retreat  to  those  who  preferred 
rest,  or  quiet  talk,  away  from  the  heat. 

As  Yensie  reached  the  door,  one  rapid  glance 
took  in  the  scene.  In  one  corner  of  the  great 
clearing,  a  number  of  the  little  girls  were  playing 
house  ;  part  of  their  food  spread  on  their  napkins 
on  the  grassy  sward.  Here  and  there  were  scat 
tered  groups  of  the  older  girls;  some  laughing 
and  talking,  some  playing,  others  still  studying. 
How  to  pass  all  these  unobserved,  and  reach  the 
shelter  of  the  trees  beyond,  where  she  might  eat 
her  dinner  quietly,  was  the  problem  she  wished  to 
solve. 

She  accomplished  this,  however,  favored  only  by 
a  few  rapid  glances  from  the  little  ones  —  too  busy 
with  their  play  to  bestow  upon  her  more  than  a 
look  as  she  passed. 

While  sitting,  completely  hidden  from  observa 
tion  by  the  thick  undergrowth,  a  number  of  her 
school-mates,  about  her  own  age,  approached. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  a  fright  ?  All  her  face 
is  eyes,  and  her  head"  —  here  the  speaker  burst 
into  a  laugh  —  "  girls,  did  you  ever  see  hair  cut  in 
that  style  before ;  quite  bare  in  places  ?  " 

The  hot  blood  started  to  Yensie's  face.  They 
must  be  speaking  of  her. 

"  Perhaps  she  has  had  sores  on  her  head,"  sug- 


36  YENSIE   WALTON. 

gested  one  ;  and  the  little  orphan  began  to  feel  her 
blood  boil  in  her  veins. 

"  She  is  going  to  have  a  new  dress,"  said  an 
other;  and  all  the  girls  began  to  laugh,  while  the 
first  speaker  added  :  "  I  should  say  not  a  moment 
before  it  is  absolutely  necessary.  Now  girls, 
really,  didn't  she  look  as  if  she  had  just  come  out 
of  the  ark?" 

"  But  you  know  she  hasn't  any  mother." 

Yensie  recognized  this  voice.  It  belonged  to 
sweet  Jennie  Mason,  her  seat-mate. 

"  And  she  sings  just  like  the  woman  I  heard  in 
New  York,"  said  another. 

More  like  the  dear,  precious  birds  than  anything 
else,"  said  Jennie,  warmly. 

"  Pooh,  sing  !  Wiry,  yes,  she  can  sing ;  so  can 
other  girls,  I  suppose ;  and  if  they  can't  they  can 
cipher.  A  big  girl  like  her  not  know  addition ! 
"Why,  little  Rosy  Hart  can  beat  her  in  arithmetic. 
I  wouldn't  come  to  school  if  I  didn't  know  that 
much." 

Then  how  would  you  ever  learn,  if  you  hadn't 
anybody  at  home  to  teach  you.  And  she  knows 
more  than  any  of  us  in  other  things,"  protested 
Jennie,  bravely.  "For  my  part,  I  mean  to  love 
her  and  help  her.  Poor  little  girl,  with  no  mother 
or  anybody  !  "  continued  the  tender-hearted  little 
advocate.  And  the  listener  began  to  cry  softly  at 
the  thought  of  her  desolation  so  pictured. 

A  moment  before,  she  had  been  ready  to  battle 


YENSIE  WALTON.  37 

those  girls,  but  the  pleading. voice  of  her  little  de 
fender  was  cooling  the  lava  in  her  veins,  and  she 
hoped  they  would  move  off,  that  she  need  not  hear 
more. 

"Now,  Jennie  Mason,  that'o  just  like  you," 
cried  the  first  speaker  ;  a  gaily-dressed  girl.  "  Hon 
est,  truly,  did  you  ever  see  such  a  looking  fright  as 
she  is  in  your  life  before  ?  " 

Thus  besieged,  Jennie  admitted  slowly,  that  she 
never  did,  quite.  "  But  then,  you  know,"  she 
added,  "  she  did  not  make  her  own  dress." 

"  No,  and  I  wouln't  wear  it  either,  or,  if  I  did, 
I'd  never  let  decent  folks  see  me,"  retorted  the 
young  lady. 

"My  mother  says  there's  nothing  dishonorable 
in  being  poor  or  shabby,  if  we  look  as  well  as  we 
can.  And  I  think  she  is  much  nobler  than  I 
should  be,  to  come  to  school  that  wa}r,  rather  than 
stay  at  home  and  be  ignorant,  just  because  the 
girls  laugh  at  her.  I'm  sure  it  isn't  her  fault  if 
she  is  a  scare-crow,"  said  Nelly  Hunt.  "  It's  that 
horrid  aunt  of  hers.  Sally  Walton  don't  know 
anything  anyhow." 

"  She  knows  how  to  save  money,  my  mother 
says,"  laughed  one. 

"  And  how  to  scold,  I've  heard,"  said  another. 

"And  they  do  say,"  cried  a  third,  "that  she 
took  all  this  little  girl's  fine  clothes  and  gave  them 
to  Milly." 

"  Pooh !   I  don't  believe  it,"  said  number  one. 


38  YENSIE   WALTON. 

If  she  did,  they  were  not  very  fine,  or  I  never  saw 
them  on  Milly." 

" Because,"  said  Nelly  Hunt,  "she  never  wore 
them.  Yensie  cut  holes  all  over  the  skirts  of 
them ;  my  aunt  said  so,  and  Mrs.  Walton  told 
her." 

"  Plucky  I "  cried  one. 

"  Just  like  her,"  said  Miss  Fancy. 

'*  Good ! "  cried  two  or  three,  and  all  laughed, 
while  Nelly  added  something  about  their  being  too 
small  for  her,  and  she  might  have  given  them  to 
her  cousin. 

"  Conundrum,"  cried  she  of  the  fine  clothes, 
who  pretended  also  to  be  a  wit.  "  Why  is  little 
Englishee  like  a  red  herring  ?  " 

"  Because  she  has  more  bones  than  meat,"  cried 
one. 

"Because  she  has  no  hair  on  the  top  of  her 
head,  the  place  where  the  wool  ought  to  grow," 
cried  another. 

"  I  give  up !  "  screamed  a  third. 

"  Shame,  shame  !  "  said  some  of  the  older  young 
ladies,  who  were  just  passing  by  the  group. 

But  Yensie  had  heard  enough.  Without  one 
thought  of  anything  but  the  insult  heaped  upon  her, 
she  sprang  from  her  hiding-place,  and  before  any 
one  was  aware  of  her  presence,  she  had  caught  the 
conundrum-maker  in  her  arms,  and  flung  her  to 
the  earth. 

"  Miss  Grey,  Miss  Grey  !  "  cried  a  dozen  voices, 


YENSIE   WALTON.  39 

just  as  the  teacher  appeared  round  the  side  of  the 
school-house,  and  the  younger  children  came  flock 
ing  to  the  place. 

A  few  of  the  young  ladies  had  helped  Carrie 
Hastings  to  her.  feet,  her  nose  bleeding  profusely. 
Yensie,  abashed,  shocked  at  her  own  conduct, 
stood  with  downcast  eyes,  the  picture  of  a  help 
less,  hopeless  culprit,  before  the  surprised,  grieved 
face  of  her  teacher. 

Without  remark,  Miss  Grey  led  Carrie  to  the 
school-room,  bidding  Yensie  follow.  Quietly  she 
bathed  the  bruised  forehead,  and  applied  a  piece 
of  sticking-plaster,  which  one  of  the  older  scholars 
happened  to  have  in  her  pocket.  Then,  when  the 
nose  had  ceased  to  bleed,  and  the  excitement  had 
somewhat  abated,  she  inquired : 

"  Girls,  how  did  this  happen  ?  " 

As  a  well-known  mob  of  old,  "  Some  cried  one 
thing,  and  some  another,"  and  Miss  Grey  was 
forced  to  command  silence. 

At  the  first  cry  :  "  Carrie  wasn't  doing  a  thing." 
"  She  sprang  upon  her  for  nothing  at  all,"  etc.,  etc., 
the  old  fire  began  to  burn  in  the  orphan's  bosom ; 
and  lifting  her  eyes,  full  of  defiance  and  indigna 
tion,  she  said  vehemently : 

"  It  isn't  true  ;  not  a  word  of  it.  She  hurt  me 
more  than  I  hurt  her,  and  I  hate  her,  I  do." 

"Hush,"  said  her  teacher,  resolutely;  "hush! 
not  another  word,  unless  I  speak  to  you."  And 
Yensie  closed  her  mouth  and  marched  to  her  seat. 


40  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Miss  Grey  looked  after  her  hesitatingly,  for  a 
moment,  then  she  said  : 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  all  be  seated.  We 
must  come  at  the  truth  quickly,  before  our  other 
scholars  get  here,  so  that  this  sad  affair  may  spread 
no  further." 

As  soon  as  all  were  seated,  and  order  restored, 
Miss  Grey  said,  addressing  one  of  the  older  schol 
ars: 

Emma  Lewis,  will  you  tell  me  all  you  know  of 
this  occurrence  ?  " 

"  I  know  very  little,  Miss  Grey,"  was  the  quick 
response.  "  I  heard  Carrie  make  a  remark,  I  did 
not  catch  her  words ;  some  laughed,  some  cried 
'  shame  ! '  and  then  this  girl  sprang  like  a  tigress 
out  from  the  bushes  behind  her,  and  threw  her  to 
the  earth." 

"  Carrie,  suppose  I  listen  to  you  next.  What 
did  you  say  to  vex  Yensie  ?  "  asked  the  puzzled 
teacher. 

"  I'm  sure  I  only  spoke  the  truth.  I  said  her 
dress  looked  strange,  as  if  she  had  come  out  of 
the  ark,  or  something  like  that.  I  never  touched 
her,  I'm  sure,"  said  Miss  Carrie,  telling  a  small 
part  of  the  truth. 

"  Not    very    charitable     or     pleasant    remarks, 
Carrie,"  said  the  teacher,  severely.     "  There  are 
more  waj-s  of  touching  most  people  than  you,  per 
haps,  imagine.     Yensie,  let  me  hear  from  you." 
But  Yensie  uttered  never  a  word. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  41 

"  Miss  Walton,  I  wish  you  to  tell  me  why  you 
struck  your  school-mate,"  insisted  the  teacher ;  but 
the  child  remained  as  mute  as  if  struck  dumb. 

Miss  Grey's  mild  face  grew  very  sad. 

"  Time  is  flying,  Yensie ;  you  must  speak  at 
once  if  at  all." 

Yet  the  girl  made  no  movement  to  obey. 

"Very  well,  we  will  hear  from  others."  And 
Miss  Grey  went  on  with  her  examination.  A  very 
one-sided  affair  it  proved  to  be ;  for  most  of  the 
girls  went  over  to  the  side  of  the  wounded  party, 
and  the  teacher's  face  grew  very  grave;  while 
Yensie's  but  too  plainly  betrayed  the  indignation 
surging  within. 

Poor,  meek  little  Jennie,  glancing  up  to  that 
face,  hid  her  own.  Just  then,  Miss  Grey  called 
upon  her. 

"  Jennie  Mason,  through  whose  fault  should  you 
say- this  trouble  arose  ?  " 

Truthful  little  Jennie  lifted  her  tearful  eyes, 
first,  to  the  defiant  face  beside  her,  then  to  the  be 
seeching  look  of  Carrie  Hastings.  She  did  not 
love  this  fierce  little  creature,  but  she  pitied  her, 
and  she  must  tell  the  truth. 

It  was  a  guileless  stor}^  neither  shielding  her 
friend,  nor^et  her  seat-mate  ;  and  absolutely  silent 
as  to  her  own  effort  at  peace.  When  she  ended, 
her  teacher  said  simply :  "  Thank  you,  Jennie." 
But  she  felt  she  had  reached  the  truth. 

"  Girls,"  she  said,  sadly,  "  don't  talk  of  this,  out- 


42  YENSIE  WALTON. 

side  of  school  or  among  yourselves.  Don't  let 
anything  which  has  occurred  to-day  prejudice  you 
either  for  or  against  anybody.  I  believe,  Carrie, 
3Tou  have  been  very  unlady-like  and  unkind ;  and 
you  Yensie,  have  shown  a  spirit  very  unbecoming 
towards  both  your  school-mate  and  your  teacher. 
I  wish  you  both  to  remain  after  school.  Now  we 
will  attend  to  our  usual  duties.  Maggie  Lawson, 
will  you  please  ring  the  bell  ?  " 

The  afternoon  passed  much  as  usual,  only 
Yensie  refused  to  hear  any  summons  to  lessons. 
Her  teacher  saw  she  intended  to  be  disobedient,  so 
she  said  nothing,  but  inwardly  wondered  how  she 
should  deal  with  this  refractory  pupil,  asking 
guidance  of  One  who  never  refused  her  requests, 
and  whose  wisdom  she  never  doubted. 

As  to  the  child,  the  afternoon  passed  very  slowly 
and  unhappily  with  her ;  and  she  was  both  glad 
and  sorry  when  the  hour  of  dismissal  arrived,  and 
she  was  left  alone  with  Carrie  Hastings  and  her 
teacher. 

Carrie  was  summoned  to  the  desk,  and  Miss 
Grey  held  a  long  and  earnest  conversation  with 
her ;  not  a  word  of  which  reached  the  other  cul 
prit's  ear,  though  she  caught  the  few  last  words  of 
the  girl,  spoken  tearfully  : 

"  O,  Miss  Grey,  pray  forgive  me,  and  I  will 
promise  not  to  offend  you  again." 

She  saw  her  go  away  with  her  teacher's  kiss 
upon  her  brow,  and  then  heard  her  own  summons 
to  the  desk. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  43 

The  little  girl  did  not  obey  this  summons.  She 
felt  as  if  she  could  not.  She  had  resisted  so  long, 
that  now  it  seemed  to  be  utterly  impossible  to 
move  herself,  and  she  met  her  teacher's  eye  with 
out  a  muscle  of  her  face  changing. 

Miss  Grey  dropped  her  head  to  the  desk  and 
prayed  for  direction,  in  this  hour  so  full  of  peril ; 
and  Yensie,  watching,  wondered  if  she  wept  or 
had  fainted,  and  felt  herself  an  awful  wretch,  yet 
never  moved  an  inch. 

As  to  what  the  lady  was  really  doing  the  child 
had  no  idea  ;  and  when  she  lifted  a  face  calm  and 
peaceful,  and  full  of  holy  confidence,  and  leaving 
her  desk,  seated  herself  beside  the  little  culprit, 
she  was  trembling  inwardly. 

"  Well,  Yensie,  do  you  think  you  will  like  to 
come  to  school  ?  "  was  the  lady's  first  question,  as 
if  the  afternoon's  mishaps  were  blotted  from  her 
memory. 

"  Yes  —  no  ;  "  answered  the  child,  fiercely,  —  the 
first  words  she  had  spoken  since  the  noon  recess. 

"  Well,  which  answer  am  I  to  believe  ? "  in 
quired  Miss  Grey,  smiling. 

"  Both."     Eyes  still  fixed  upon  her  desk. 

"  I  think  I  understand  you,  my  child,"  Miss 
Grey  said,  kindly.  "  You  are  so  eager  to  learn  that 
school  is  pleasant  to  you,  and  you  would  like  to 
attend  always ;  yet  you  are  so  tried  by  the  unkind 
remarks  of  your  mates,  that  you  feel  you  can 
never  enter  these  walls  again.  Am  I  not  right  ?  " 


44  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Yensie  had  raised  her  eyes  quickly  to  her  teach- 
er's  face  during  these  remarks,  now  they  sought 
her  desk  again  as  she  answered  : 

"  Yes,"  and  added  —  her  eyes  once  more  seeking 
the  face  of  her  friend  — "  but  that  isn't  the  only 
reason  I  wish  to  come.  I  like  you,  and  I  hate 
her,"  —  waving  her  hand  energetically  towards  the 
farm-house.  "Yes,  I  hate  her,"  —  repeating  the 
gesture  —  "  worse  than  I  do  Carrie  Hastings  !  " 
And  the  flashing  eyes  bore  ample  testimony  to  the 
truth  of  her  assertion. 

"  Her  ? "  questioned  Miss  Grey,  demurely. 
"  Perhaps  you  mean  your  aunt,  or  one  of  your 
little  cousins ;  possibly,  the  brindled  cow,  or  }rour 
uncle's  old  mare,  Jeanette,  or  maybe  the  old  hog 
in  the  barn  cellar." 

Yensie's  face  was  crimson  with  shame. 

"  O,  Miss  Grey,"  she  cried,  "  you  know  I  did  not 
mean  the  cow,  or  horse,  or  pig." 

"  I  could  not  be  expected  to  know  from  your 
language,  my  child,  but  only  from  the  fact  that 
few  people  expend  their  hatred  upon  inoffensive 
animals.  My  little  scholar  must  have  a  care  not 
to  bring  her  father's  teachings  into  disrepute.  But, 
Yensie,  it  is  a  terrible  sin  to  hate.  Why  should 
you  hate  your  school-mate  for  a  few  senseless  re 
marks,  that  could  not  have  harmed  you  possibly, 
had  you  not  allowed  them  to.  Do  you  think  you 
have  more  occasion  for  hating  Carrie  than  she  has 
for  hating  you  ?  " 


YENSEE   WALTON.  45 

^  much  more  ;  I  would  not  talk  as  she  did, 
—  I  am  above  it." 

"She  would  not  strike  as  you  did;  she  is  above 
that." 

"  I'd  rather  she  had  struck  me,"  cried  the  child, 
excitedly,  "  than  to  have  done  as  she  did,  and  then 
lie  to  you  about  it." 

"  Softly,  softly,  my  dear !  Are  you  quite  sure  she 
did  not  tell  me  the  truth  ?  "  said  the  good  lady. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  child,  decidedly.  "I  am  sure 
she  did  not  tell  you  the  whole  truth ;  and  anything 
less  than  that  is  falsehood,  when  kept  back  on 
purpose  to  deceive." 

Miss  Grey  was  forced  to  admit  this  truth. 

"  Why  did  not  you  then  tell  me  the  story  your 
self,  when  I  requested  you  to  do  so  ? "  she  asked, 
gently. 

*'I  thought  you  would  not  believe  me  if  I  did." 

"  What  right  had  you  to  such  a  thought  ?  " 

"  No  right,"  very  softly. 

"  Then  you  see  you  have  wronged  me,  my  dear 
child,"  said  the  lady.  "  Are  you  ready  to  tell  me 
the  story  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am." 

"  Do  you  think  I  ought  to  be  willing  to  listen  to 
you?" 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  Then  you  feel  you  have  done  wrong,  dear,  in 
this  whole  matter  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  —  short  and  quick,  as  if  fearful  it  would 
not  be  uttered  at  all,  if  delayed. 


46  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  Then  you  are  sorry  my  child  for  your  beha 
vior?  "  in  the  same  sweet,  pleading  tone. 

"I  am  sorry  I  grieved  you ;  but  I  am  not  a  bit 
sorry  for  the  rest,  not  a  bit.  I  know  I  should  do 
the  same  thing  right  over  again,  if  she  talked  the 
same  way ;  I  know  I  should,"  said  the  child  stoutly. 

"  And  thus  bid  defiance  to  all  the  teachings  of 
your  good  father,  and  worse  still,  displease  your 
Heavenly  Father,  Yensie,"  said  her  teacher,  sor 
rowfully. 

"Do  you  hate  me,  Miss  Grey?" 

"  No,  dear ;  on  the  contrary,  I  love  you." 

"  Why  do  you  love  me  ?  "  wistfully. 

"  Because  I  pity  you,  dear  child,"  said  the  lady, 
tenderly  smoothing  the  brown  locks.  She  felt  the 
little,  disdainful,  upward  toss  of  the  head,  as  if 
her  pity  galled  the  proud  young  spirit,  and  added  : 
"  You  are  so  lonely  and  unhappy,  and  out  of  tune. 
If  I  pity  j^ou  so  much,  with  what  compassion  must 
the  dear  Saviour  behold  you  now." 

Tears  rushed  to  the  great  eyes,  at  this  too  faith 
ful  portraiture  of  her  condition,  yet  the  haughty 
spirit  blazed  beneath  them,  as  she  cried  passion 
ately  : 

"  I  do  not  ask  for  pity,  I  do  not  want  pity,  I 
want  love." 

"  There  is  no  true  love  without  pity,"  said  the 
lady,  simply. 

"My  father  loved  me,  but  he  never  pitied  me." 

"  Because   he   never   saw  you  poor,  or  sick,  or 


YENSIE   WALTON.  47 

friendless,  or  sinful.  Had  he  seen  you  suffer,  he 
must  have  pitied  you,  or  ceased  to  love  you,"  an 
swered  the  teacher,  calmly. 

"I  suppose  he  would.  I  never  thought  of  that. 
But  God  does  not  love  me  as  my  father  did." 

"  You  know  not  what  you  say,  dear  child,"  said 
Miss  Grey,  gently.  "  Your  father  could  have  died 
for  you,  no  doubt;  but  think  you  he  loved  any  one 
well  enough  to  allow  you,  his  child,  to  die  in  their 
stead.  God  had  only  one  begotten  Son,  and  we 
may  not  be  able  to  picture  how  he  loved  him,  yet, 
loving  sinful  you  and  me  as  only  a  pure,  holy  God 
can  love,  he  sent  his  only  one  to  die  for  you  and 
me,  to  save  you  and  me.  O  little  girl,  can  there 
be  greater  love  than  this  ?  " 

And,  silenced,  Yensie  sat  for  a  few  moments; 
then  Miss  Grey  repeated  softly  ; 

" ,'  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than  this :  that  a 
man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends.'  '  But  God 
commendeth  his  love  toward  us  ;  in  that,  while  we 
were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us.' ' 

Rising  slowly,  the  child  took  her  sun-bonnet 
from  the  seat  beside  her,  and  placing  it  on  her 
head,  tied  it  under  her  chin.  Her  teacher  re 
garded  her  a  moment  with  loving,  tender  eyes, 
then  lifting  the  face,  pressed  a  kiss  on  the  brow, 
asking  gently  : 

"  Shall  I  expect  you  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  Yensie,  quickly,  "  the 
books  would  be  idle,  you  know,"  with  a  comical 


48  YENSIE   WALTON. 

smile  at  thought  of  Mrs.  Walton's  words,  "  and 
besides  nobody  loves  me  there,  and  you  do." 

"  Nobod}^,  dear  ?  "  her  hand  laid  gently  on  the 
pink  sun-bonnet ;  "  what  about  your  uncle  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  lie.  does." 

"  And  the  little  cousins  ?  "  still  inquiringly. 

"  Maude  does  ;  "  quickly  —  "  but  Aunt  Sarah 
hates  the  very  sight  of  me,  she  says  so." 

"  What  have  you  ever  done  to  deserve  her 
love  ?  "  The  kind  eyes  bent  so  earnestly  on  the 
little  up-turned  face. 

"Nothing.1"  Head  dropping  sadly,  then  lifted 
instantly.  "  But  1  have  never  done  anything  to 
deserve  your  love,  yet  you  love  me ;  you  said  so," 
triumphantly. 

This  was  unanswerable,  and  Miss  Grey  smiled 
at  the  child's  shrewdness. 

"  If  I  appear  in  any  respect  better  than  others," 
she  said,  "  it  is  through  the  teachings  of  Him  who, 
finding  me  lost  in  sin  and  self,  yet  loved  me  in  my 
degradation,  and  took  me  to  His  blessed  bosom. 
Dear  child,  through  Him  you  may  yet  become 
your  aunt's  greatest  comfort,  whose  coming  to  her 
shall  be  her  theme  of  endless  thanksgiving.  To 
this  end  let  us  pray,  and  remember,  it  is  not  only 
because  I  pity,  that  I  love  you,  but  that,  judging 
from  3'our  own.  report,  I  believe  you  are  the  child 
of  a  dear  brother.  I  feel  you  are  a  blessed  charge, 
sent  me  by  one  unable  to  remain  and  finish  the 
work  he  loved ;  who  calls  on  me  to  do  that  which 


YENSIE   WALTON.  49 

he  was  obliged  so  reluctantly  to  leave  undone. 
For  his  sake  you  will  try  to  love  rne,  Yensie. 
Come  to  me  freely,  dear,  and  let  us  together  study 
to  become  more  like  Him,  who  both  loved  us  and 
laid  down  his  life  for  our  sakes." 

The  child  looked  up  one  moment  into  her  teach 
er's  face  with  streaming  eyes.  The  next,  her 
clinging  arms  were  about  her  neck,  and  pressing  a 
burning  kiss  on  her  pale  cheek,  she  bounded 
through  the  door.  As  she  went  down  the  path, 
great  sobs  rent  her  bosom,  as  if  Miss  Grey's  words 
had  broken  up,  rather  than  melted,  the  ice  so 
long  congealing  there  ;  and  as  if  the  floating  mass 
obstructed  her  breath,  endangering  her  life. 

Once  out  of  sight  of  the  school-house,  she  flung 
herself  down  under  a  tree  and  sobbed  piteously, 
ever  and  anon  saying  to  herself:  "She  —  loves  — 
me,  —  she  —  said  —  so."  By  and  by,  her  tears 
flowed  more  freely,  her  sobs  and  sighs  grew  fainter, 
her  face  gradually  clearing  and  brightening,  as  if 
behind  those  blessed  words  shone  the  sun  which 
was  to  convert  her  tears  into  a  bow  of  promise. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  school-room,  Alice  Grey  knelt 
praying  for  grace  to  lead  this  little  one  into  the 
Saviour's  fold. 

O  Yensie,  little  Yensie !  No  longer  poor,  no 
longer  desolate  !  A  pure,  true,  human  heart  is 
throbbing  now  for  you.  A  yearning,  tender 
heart,  as  warm  and  loving  as  the  one  death  stilled, 
before  thy  own  was  conscious  of  its  beatings. 


50 


YENSIE  WALTON. 


And  woman's  lips  —  redeemed  woman's  lips  — 
whose  breathings  wake  far  sweeter  melody  in 
heaven  than  angels'  songs,  are  whispering  peti 
tions  for  thy  welfare.  Have  courage.  Though 
He  tarry,  he  does  not  forget ;  and  a  father's  pray 
ers  will  yet  be  answered  through  a  consecrated 
human  instrument. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


"  For  the  friendship  of  a  child  is  the  brightest  gem  set  upon  the 

circle  of  society; 
A  jewel  worth  a  world  of  pain,  a  jewel  seldom  seen." 


followed  day,  weeks  grew  to  months ; 

and  months  in  passing,  made  the  years. 

The  longed-for  dress  had  been  finished  and 
worn  out  years  ago ;  the  gay  ribbon,  carried  in  her 
pocket  every  da}'-  until  beyond  the  range  of  the 
red  farm-house,  had  done  service  and  been  thrown 
aside  ;  and  still  Yeiisie  attended  the  village  school, 
and  Miss  Grey  was  still  her  teacher. 

Great  changes  had  visited  the  school-room  since 
first  our  little  friend  made  her  appearance  there, 
and  yet  perhaps  the  greatest  change  had  been 
wrought  in  herself.  Many  of  the  boys  and  girls 
who  studied  there,  in  that  far-off  day,  had  left  its 
walls,  and  others  filled  their  places  —  among  them 
Mildred  and  Fred. 
51 


52  YENSIE   WALTON. 

When  Carrie  Hastings  left  the  village  for  a 
boarding-school,  Mr.  Walton  offered  Yensie  the 
same  privilege  ;  but  she  had  declined  it. 

"  I  will  stay  with  Miss  Grey  while  she  has  any 
thing  to  teach  me,"  she  said,  and  having  her  own 
way  she  had  not  lost  thereby. 

God  bless  the  faithful  teacher !  How  her  words 
follow  us  through  life.  How  we  look  back  with 
dimming  eyes  and  thrilling  hearts  at  remembrance 
of  her  sweet  counsels. 

Amid  the  many  noble  women,  devoted  edu 
cators  of  the  young,  Alice  Grey  was  still  unusual. 
With  rare  natural  tact,  and  a  heart  young,  in  spite 
of  the  burdens  and  sorrows  life  had  brought  her, 
she  was  just  the  one  to  win  the  devotion  of  a 
child  of  Yensie  Walton's  ardent  temperament. 

Very  unlike  indeed,  they  were.  Yensie  felt  her 
teacher  possessed  every  quality  which  she  lacked, 
and  for  which  she  yearned.  Together  they  made 
a  perfect  whole.  Separated  from  her  friend,  the 
maiden  felt  herself  continually  wanting  complete 
ness.  With  Miss  Grey  she  never  felt  just  as  she 
did  with  others ;  the  yearning  restlessness  that 
made  her  life  unbearable  at  times,  never  troubled 
her  in  this  beloved  presence ;  and  no  matter  what 
the  turmoil  of  her  spirit  she  felt  it  soothed  beneath 
the  magic  of  her  teacher's  touch. 

If  ever  woman  was  worth}r  of  such  love  as  this 
girl  bestowed,  surely  this  woman  was.  Delicate 
and  frail  in  bodj-,  her  spirit  seemed  to  have  grown 


YENSIE  WALTON.  53 

more  robust,  as  if  in  compensation.  She  had  a 
face  whose  delicate  pencilings  were  full  of  perfect 
harmony ;  whose  every  line  seemed  the  tender 
tracery  of  angel  touches.  Pure,  sweet,  earnest  — 
with  a  mouth  always  ready  to  smile  ;  tender,  yet 
firm.  Eyes  that  you  never  forgot;  neither  black, 
nor  blue,  nor  gray  —  quiet,  restful  eyes  —  so  near 
the  fountain  that  ran  tears  of  sympathy ;  so  near 
the  sun  that  dried  them  in  new  hopefulness.  Over 
all  that  face  there  rested  a  nameless  grace  and 
beauty,  which  one  felt  were  born  of  pain  and  suf 
fering  —  pain  sanctified ;  suffering  which  had 
reached  its  "  afterwards,"  which  "  yieldeth  the 
peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness." 

Yensie  never  brought  a  fern  or  lily-of-the-valley 
home  to  beautify  her  room  without  a  thought  of 
their  resemblance  to  her  teacher;  never  plucked 
the  white  violet  or  trailing  arbutus  without  being 
reminded  of  the  fragrance  of  her  blessed  life  ;  and 
years  after,  when  Alice  Grey  was  not  —  for  God 
had  taken  her  —  this  pupil  never  saw  these  flow 
ers  without  tears.  Tears  of  joy  that  she  had  been 
privileged  to  know  and.  love  her ;  tears  of  sorrow 
that  earth  no  longer  held  a  spot  made  sacred  by 
her  presence. 

Miss  Grey's  love  for  Yensie  was  not  less  sincere, 
but  it  was  very  different.  She  held  all  earthly 
things  with  a  loose  grasp,  and  had  not  dared  risk 
her  all  in  any  earthly  bark,  as  had  her  little  charge. 
Thanking  God  for  every  joy  of  life,  and  loving  it 


54  YENSIE   WALTON. 

better  as  from  His  hand,  she  learned  above  all  else 
to  praise  him  for  this  child. 

Miss  Grey  had  often  seen  scholars  droop  beneath 
hard  study ;  but  a  new  experience  awaited  her. 
And  she  looked  on  with  astonishment  as  tins  bril 
liant  flower  unfolded  its  petals,  day  by  day ;  as 
the  little  shy,  pale-faced  girl  developed  into  a  beau 
tiful,  rounded,  rosy-faced  maiden,  in  the  midst  of 
incessant  mental  exertion.  She  little  knew  that 
her  tender  love  was  the  oil  feeding  the  unseen 
springs  of  life  giving  them  strength  and  elasticity. 
No  lesson  was  too  difficult  to  master,  no  toil  too 
great  to  undertake ;  for  aside  from  the  exceeding 
great  reward  knowledge  brought  Yensie  in  itself, 
were  the  smiles  of  her  teacher,  and  she  would  do 
anything  to  win  them. 

Meanwhile  Mildred  had  grown  to  a  bright,  smart 
girl.  Equally  quick  to  learn,  she  lacked  the  re- 
tentiveness  and  originality  of  her  cousin,  and  felt 
when  she  reached  fourteen,  that  she  had  quite 
enough  learning  and  pleaded  to  leave  school.  At 
first  her  mother  opposed  her  in  this,  but  finally 
yielded,  as  she  was  wont,  to  her  daughter's  en 
treaties,  consoling  herself  with  the  thought  that 
Mildred  would  not  need  to  teach  for  a  living,  and 
therefore  required  less  schooling  than  Yensie. 

Milly  was  both  smart  and  pretty.  Others  than 
her  mother,  perhaps,  had  thought  her  superior  in 
looks  to  her  cousin.  With  a  pink  and  white  com 
plexion,  bluest  of  blue  eyes,  soft,  fair  hair,  and 


YENSIE  WALTON.  55 

pouting,  saucy  mouth,  well-formed  and  sprightly, 
she  was  much  more  a  picture  than  her  soberer-hued 
relative. 

But  Miss  Grey  saw  differently.  She  could  al 
ready  discern  in  her  beloved  pupil  the  prophecy  of 
an  uncommon  womanhood,  both  mentally  and 
physically.  Maturing  more  slowly  than  her 
cousin,  Yensie  had  all  the  elements  of  unusual 
beauty;  and  the  fond  teacher  feared  while  she  ad 
mired.  The  slender,  graceful  figure,  the  brilliant 
eyes,  the  clear,  bright  complexion,  the  poise  of  the 
shapely  head,  that  carried  its  wealth  of  chestnut 
curls  as  queen  might  wear  a  coronet ;  all  spoke  to 
Alice  Grey  of  coming  power  and  coming  danger. 

Fred  was  now  a  boy  of  ten  years,  rough  and 
roguish ;  but  Maude  —  sweet,  wee,  Maude  —  who 
shall  describe  her  ?  Seven  years  old  now,  she  was 
scarcely  larger  than  most  children  of  four ;  and 
retained  the  lovely  spirit  of  her  babyhood.  The 
years  had  only  brought  her  added  whiteness. 
Like  a  bee  she  extracted  honey  from  everything 
about  her,  and  passed  by  the  poison  unconsciously. 
Hers  was  a  charmed  life  ;  and  while,  instinctively, 
all  sought  to  shield  her  from  pain  or  harm,  unwit 
tingly  her  little  hands  led  all  whither  she  would. 

Long  years  ago,  Yensie  had  given  her  the  name 
of  Violet,  because  the  dark,  purple-blue  eyes  re 
minded  one  of  those  spring  beauties;  and  grad 
ually  all  others  adopted  the  endearing  title. 

Yensie's  comforter  and  room-mate  for  years,  she 


56  YENSIE   WALTON. 

had  been,  and  it  was  wonderful  what  sweet  coun 
sels  they  held  together ;  and  how  much  instruc 
tion  those  baby  lips  imparted  to  the  lonely  orphan. 
Sometimes  listening  to  her  earnest,  old-fashioned 
talk,  the  girl  trembled  lest  Violet  knew  already  too 
much  of  heaven  to  long  share  with  her  this  life  on 
earth. 

"Aunt  Sarah,"  said  Yensie,  one  afternoon,  an 
swering  some  remark  of  Mrs.  Walton's,  "  Aunt 
Sarah,  we  are  just  alike,  with  a  difference,"  smil 
ing.  "  I  love  work  as  well  as  you  do,  but  I  do 
not  despise  rest  or  recreation ;  there  we  split.  I 
have  worked  as  fast  and  as  hard  as  any  one  ought 
to,  this  whole  day,  doing  everything  you  required, 
and  more,  now  haven't  I  ?  And  if  I  have  been 
smart  enough  to  get  done  an  hour  before  you  ex 
pected  I  would,  why,  I  have  earned  that  hour,  and 
have  a  right  to  spend  it  as  I  please.  Don't  you 
agree  with  me  ?  If,  as  you  say,  you  were  not  like 
other  girls,  and  did  not  care  to  go  out  much,  and 
yet  it  was  no  sin  for  you  to  differ,  how  can  it  be  a 
crime  in  me  to  differ  from  you  ?  I  do  love  to  go 
out ;  I  do  love  Alice  Grey,  and  find  it  hard  to  live 
without  her  this  vacation.  I  am  going."  And  the 
bright  face,  flushed  from  hard  work,  was  lifted  to 
Mrs.  Walton's  with  a  look  half-sauc}r,  half-mirthful. 

"  Get  off  with  you,"  said  her  aunt,  with  a  grim 
smile;  for,  be  it  known,  a  much  kindlier  feeling 
existed  between  these  two  than  in  former  days 
—  thanks  to  Miss  Grey. 


YENSIE    WALTON.  57 

Mrs.  Walton  was  very  efficient,  and  as  neat  and 
particular  in  her  habits  as  possible.  And  under 
her  rugged  teachings,  Yensie  —  careless,  heedless 
child  as  she  had  been  —  grew  as  neat,  and  nearly 
as  particular  as  herself.  The  girl  had  been  very 
slow  to  give  her  relative  the  credit  due  for  these 
changes;  but  Miss  Grey  had  helped  her  to  a  more 
just  estimate  of  her  aunt,  and  thus  increased  the 
spirit  of  kindliness  between  them. 

Then,  too,  Yensie  had  natural  qualities  that  won 
her  aunt's  involuntary  admiration;  and  this  doing 
whatever  she  undertook  with  all  her  might,  was 
one.  Whether  she  worked  or  studied,  every  energy 
of  body  or  mind  was  fully  employed.  But  when 
work  was  over,  study  done,  she  could  lay  them 
aside  entirely.  With  her  work-dress  she  folded 
up  her  cares,  and  never  seemed  to  know  labor 
would  be  required  of  her  again  until  its  hour  re 
turned. 

Perhaps  this  was  what  made  her  so  agreeable  a 
companion,  so  delightful  a  listener.  Saturday's 
unfinished  work  never  protruded  itself  between 
her  and  Mr.  Goodale's  sermon ;  and  that  good 
man  often  wondered  at  the  fixed,  delighted  atten 
tion  of  his  young  auditor,  puzzled  that  one  so 
eager  to  hear  the  gospel  refused  its  offers. 

In  vain  he  sought  to  press  it  on  her  personally. 

"  Yrou  have  taught  me  all  this  through  your  ser 
mons,  hundreds  of  times.  If  I  perish  I  will  exon 
erate  you  from  ail  blame,"  she  would  say.  So 
lately  he  said  little,  but  prayed  much. 


58  YENSIE   WALTON. 

But  we  left  the  young  girl  on  her  way  from  the 
heated  kitchen  to  her  own  room  to  prepare  for  her 
walk. 

She  did  not  consume  much  time  in  preparation. 
The  dark  calico  was  soon  exchanged  for  a  light 
muslin ;  and  when  her  jaunty  straw  hat  was  placed 
on  her  head,  even  the  little  cracked  mirror,  which 
anything  but  adorned  her  chamber  wall,  could  not 
make  the  bright  young  face  reflected  there  re 
pulsive. 

No  bird  on  the  wing  ever  exulted  more  in  its 
boundless  freedom  than  Yensie  Walton  this  summer 
afternoon,  as  with  hands  full  of  flowers,  plucked 
from  her  garden  patch,  she  took  her  way  across  the 
fields.  She  had  earned  her  time ;  it  was  hers 
rightfully,  as  was  the  fresh  breeze  and  sunshine. 
And  she  found  herself  breaking  out  into  gay  little 
snatches  of  song. 

"  I  will  go  by  the  mansion  house,"  she  said, 
gayly.  "  Who  knows,  I  may  get  a  glimpse  of 
those  fine  ladies.  Mildred  heard  a  large  number 
arrived  yesterday,  one  of  them  the  Mrs.  Robinson 
to  be." 

Just  then  she  heard  a  quick  step  behind  her, 
and  in  another  moment  a  young  man  passed.  He 
fixed  his  dark  eyes  full  upon  her  with  a  puzzled, 
inquiring  look,  as  he  passed,  raising  his  hat  and 
bowing  politely.  She  flushed  at  his  earnest  glance. 
It  was  Harry  Campbell,  the  little  boy  of  her 
childhood's  adventure. 


YENSIE    WALTON.  59 

She  recognized  him  at  once.  He  had  changed 
but  little  in  feature,  though  he  had  grown  tall  and 
manly.  He  was  very  handsome,  too.  She  saw  all 
this  in  the  little  moment  he  was  in  view,  and 
sighed  unconsciously  as  the  elegant  figure  disap 
peared  around  an  angle  of  the  road. 

She  looked  for  him  again  as  she  passed  the  broad 
lawn  sloping  down  from  the  mansion  house,  and 
not  in  vain.  He  stood  surrounded  by  a  group  of 
ladies,  and  she  noticed,  as  she  glanced  towards  him, 
that  he  was  regarding  her  with  that  perplexed, 
curious,  yet  pleased  look  she  had  met  before. 


CHAPTER   V. 


"  He  is  my  strength  and  righteousness, 
My  Jesus  and  my  all." 


FEW  minutes  after,  and  Yensie  stood  in 
the  presence  of  her  teacher. 
"  I  have  wanted  to  fly  to  you  all  day,  dear 
Alice,"  said  the  girl,  seating  herself  at  the  lady's 
feet.  "  It  did  seem  as  if  my  work  would  never  be 
done." 

"  Self-denial  is  wholesome  love,  even  when 
learned  in  so  disagreeable  a  place  as  Aunt  Sarah's 
kitchen,"  was  the  reply. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  it  is  always  wholesome, 
Alice  ?  "  queried  the  girl. 

"  Yes,  darling,  always,"  replied  the  lady,  gently. 
"  The  sorest  denials  of  my  life  have  yielded  the 
largest  gains." 

60 


YENSIE   WALTON.  61 

Yensie  lifted  her  eyes  quickly  to  the  dear  face. 
"  You  have  had  a  bitter  experience  somewhere  ?  " 
she  said,  questioningly. 

"  Such  bitterness  as  I  trust  you  shall  only  know 
by  name.  But,"  —  turning  the  subject  —  "  how 
did  you  manage  to  get  here  at  last  ?  " 

Yeusie  did  not  answer  her.  She  was  looking  up 
into  that  loved  face  with  such  a  strange,  half* 
grieved,  half-protective  look,  as  if  some  unknown 
and  hurtful  power  threatened  to  molest  her  treasure 
which  she  would  guard  with  her  life.  Alice  read 
all  this  in  those  expressive  eyes. 

"I  told  you  the  bitter  that  was,  held  nothing 
but  sweetness  now,"  she  said.  "  Sometime,  per 
haps  I  will  tell  you  more,  but  not  to-day.  I  am 
not  strong  enough ;  nothing  troubles  me  to-day, 
darling,  but  my  own  selfishness." 

The  young  girl  kissed  passionately  the  thin 
hand  lying  so  near  her  lips,  as  she  answered  : 

"  You  selfish  !  O,  Miss  Grey,  how  is  that  pos 
sible  ?  I  thought  you  could  not  be." 

"  I  am  but  human,  Yensie  ;  and  find  that  weeds 
grow,  even  where  I  planted  flowers." 

"  What  are  you  selfish  in  to-day  ?  "  pleaded  the 
maiden,  laying  her  fair  head  in  her  teacher's  lap. 
Miss  Grey  stooped  and  kissed  the  broad  brow. 

"  I  find  it  very  hard  to  give  you  up,  dear ;  even 
when  I  know  it  is  for  your  good,"  she  said  tremu 
lously. 

"  Give  me  up  !  "     What  do  you  mean  ?     What 


62  YENBD3  WALTON. 

can  you  mean  ?  "  cried  the  girl  springing  up  and 
putting  her  arms  about  her  teacher's  neck.  "  If  it 
is  selfish  for  you  to  wish  to  keep  me,  I'm  glad  you 
are  selfish,"  she  added,  passionately. 

"Nevertheless,  I  have  tried  not  to  be  selfish," 
said  the  lady.  "  I  have  told  your  uncle  that  you 
must  go  to  some  other  school ;  I  can  teach  you  no 
longer." 

Yensie  Walton  sat  down  without  one  word ;  but 
there  were  tears  in  her  large  eyes. 

"  You  have  not  taught  me  all  you  know  ?  "  she 
said  at  length,  slowly. 

"  All  I  can.  I  have  already  taxed  my  strength 
too  far,  trying  to  keep  abreast  of  you,"  said  her 
teacher. 

"  And  I  have  allowed  you  to.  O,  Alice  ! "  said 
the  girl,  sadly. 

"  You  did  not  know,  darling  ;  how  could  you  ?  " 

"  But  you  should  have  told  me,  Alice.     I  am  so 

sorry.     I  would  not  injure  you  for  all  the  world." 

For  suddenly  Yensie's  eyes  seemed  opened  to  the 

frailt}'  of  her  friend. 

"  My  dear  child,  this  is  my  own  fault,  a  part  of 
my  selfishness.  I  felt  I  could  not  spare  you.  Now 
I  must.  But  I  Lave  made  you  sad,  little  girl, 
when  I  did  not  mean  to.  I  have  talked  with  your 
uncle.  I  think  he  will  not  require  you  to  go  away 
to  school  before  I  leave  Wynu.  I  have  promised 
to  keep  the  school  through  next  winter.  I  dare 
not  promise  longer  than  that.  Now  you  have  my 


YENSIE   WALTON.  63 

reason  for  not  returning  home  through  the  holi 
days,  as  usual.  When  I  go  again  it  will  be  to  re 
main  with  mother  while  I  live." 

"  O,  Alice,  are  you  so  ill  ?  " 

"  Not  more  so  than  I  have  been  for  years,  only  I 
am  tired,"  was  the  reply.  "Rest. will  recruit  me. 
Mother  is  feeble,  and  needs  me  now.  Cheer  up, 
my  child,  you  shall  spend  your  vacations  with  me, 
and  tell  me  all  your  progress."  And  thus  talking, 
Miss  Grey  won  the  smiles  back  to  the  face  of  her 
charge. 

"  Yensie,"  said  her  teacher  in  the  course  of  that 
afternoon's  conversation.  "  Yensie,  I  could  leave 
you  without  so  much  pain,  so  much  fear,  if  I  only 
knew  you  had  accepted  the  Saviour  as  your  friend 
and  guide." 

The  maiden's  eyes  sought  the  floor,  but  she  did 
not  answer.  Here  was  one  whose  counsels  she 
could  not  set  aside  as  she  could  others ;  to  whose 
words  her  heart  was  wont  to  give  assent. 

"Usually  kind   and   generous,   my  child,"  con 
tinued  her  teacher,  "  I  find  you  lacking  here.     The 
One  above  all  others  who  has  a  right  to  your  love 
.nd  homage,  seems  utterly  forgotten." 

"  Oh,  not  forgotten,  Miss  Grey  !  "  cried  the  girl. 
"  How  could  He  be  forgotten  when  you  have  lived 
His  life  over  again  before  me  every  day.  I  have 
prayed,  and  thought  I  would  love  Him.  But  I  am 
ashamed  to  offer  Him  half  a  heart :  and  I  cannot 
love  Him  as  I  did  my  father  —  as  I  do  you." 


64  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  And  yet  He  gave  you  your  father  and  Miss 
Grey,"  said  the  lady,  quietly. 

"  Yes,  so  he  did,"  said  the  young  girl,  thought 
fully,  as  if  this  were  a  revelation.  "  But  how  can 
I  help  being  just  what  I  am.  I've  tried  over  and 
over  again  to  be  good,  to  do  right,  and,  first  thing 
I  know,  I  am  doing  .something  hateful." 

" '  By  the  works  of  the  law  shall  no  flesh  be 
justified,' "  said  Miss  Grey.  "  If  you  have  tried 
being  good  long  enough  to  convince  you  that  it  is 
impossible  for  you  to  keep  God's  law,  Yensie, 
you  have  come  to  the  place  where  you  must  be 
saved  by  grace,  or  perish.  You  cannot  make  your 
self  any  better ;  I  am  glad  you  seem  sure  of  that. 
God  does  not  ask  you  to  do  what  you  cannot  do; 
he  does  not  ask  you  to  make  yourself  an  impossi 
bility  ;  he  only  asks  you  to  come  to  Jesus  just  as 
you  are." 

"  Miss  Grey  !  "  cried  Yensie,  in  surprise.  "  I 
am  a  great  sinner,  and  God  is  holy  ;  how  can  I, 
how  dare  I,  approach  him  just  as  I  am  ?  " 

"  Because  you  cannot  make  j-ourself  any  differ 
ent,  my  child ;  and  he  would  not  be  just  to  require 
of  3Tou  what  you  cannot  perform,"  answered  the 
lady. 

The  girl  was  silent,  she  had  never  had  the  truth 
presented  in  just  this  light  before.  Miss  Grey 
was  silent,  too,  her  prayers  going  up  to  the  throne, 
for  she  felt  the  Holy  Spirit  was  brooding  over  the 
troubled  waters  of  that  soul.  At  length,  the 
maiden  lifted  her  eyes  from  the  floor : 


YENSIE   WALTON.  65 

"  I  have  always,"  she  said,  carrying  out  in  words 
what  had  been  forming  in  her  thoughts,  "I  have 
always  respected  religion  in  others ;  always  revered 
God's  people ;  always  admired  the  Saviour's  walk 
and  work.  My  heart  has  been  moved  to  its  centre 
with  deepest  surprise  and  veneration  at  the  won 
derful  condescension  of  Jesus." 

Miss  Grey's  voice  interrupted  her: 

"  Yensie,  do  you  remember  that  long-ago  cry  of 
yours :  '  I  do  not  want  pity  ;  I  want  love  ?  '  Your 
Saviour  comes  to  you  with  a  very  like  declaration. 
He  does  not  ask  your  admiration,  but  your  love. 
He  commands  your  fear,  your  admiration,  your 
reverence  ;  you  can  no  more  withhold  them  than 
the  clouds  their  rain-drops,  when  He  speaks.  He 
who  is  worshipped  by  angels,  whose  ears  are  filled 
with  the  hosannas  of  spotless  myriads,  asks  not 
your  admiration.  We  yield  that  instinctively,  and 
cannot  do  otherwise.  But  your  love  he  asks,  your 
love  he  will  have.  O  my  darling,  the  Saviour 
that  died  for  you,  is  yet  a  suppliant  unadmitted  at 
the  door  of  your  heart.  God  has  given  you  every 
earthly  gift  without  the  asking,  without  your  will. 
One  gift  alone  has  he  withheld.  This  he  will  give 
only  on  condition  that  you  feel  your  need  of  and 
ask  for  it.  You  have  taken  all  his  free  gifts  with 
out  a  word  of  thanks,  and  will  you  refuse  his 
greatest  gift  rather  than  bow  that  proud  spirit?" 

"  Proud  !  "  continued  the  lady.  "  A  mortal 
proud  !  O  God  forgive  us.  Our  position,  Yensie 


66  YENSIE   WALTON. 

—  both  yours  and  mine  —  is  down  low,  down  low 
before  his  feet.  O  darling,  stoop  and  live." 

Yensie  was  silent,  though  deeply  moved ;  her 
slight  form  was  trembling,  as  her  teacher  went  on  : 

"  My  child,"  she  said,  gently,  "  if  I  had  recom 
mended  to  you  any  earthly  friend,' you  would  go 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  serve  him  for  my  sake ; 
and  so  you  would  care  for  any  old-time  friend  of 
your  father.  We  have  failed  to  recommend  to 
you  any  other,  as  we  have  this  Friend  of  friends ; 
yet  }-ou  have  not  listened  to  his  pleadings.  Strange 
that  your  '  father's  God '  should  be  to  you  an  '  Un 
known  God.'  He  who  has  supported,  loved,  and 
tenderly  cared  for  your  dearest ;  carrying  some  of 
them  over  in  his  mighty  bosom  to  the  other  shore 
beyond  the  heart-break,  waits  to-day  for  your 
thanks,  your  love.  Shall  he  wait  in  vain  ?  " 

Yensie  could  bear  no  more.  Springing  to  her 
feet,  quivering  in  every  nerve,  she  gazed  into  her 
teacher's  face. 

"  I  am  so  vile,"  she  gasped. 

And  Miss  Grey  repeated,  in  a  low,  sweet  voice  : 

"  Jnst  as  I  am,  without  one  plea, 
But  that  Thy  hlood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  Thou  hidst  me  come  to  Thee, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come,  I  come  I 

Just  as  I  am,  and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  Thee  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come,  I  come  1 " 


YENSIE  WALTON.  67 

But  before  the  last  line  was  repeated  Yensie  was 
gone.  Springing  through  the  door;  hat  in  hand, 
down  over  the  stair,  out  into  the  street,  past  the 
mansion  house  —  past  everything,  until  alone  be 
neath  God's  trees.  Then,  with  a  great  sob,  fling 
ing  herself  on  the  green  sod,  she  pleaded  for 
mercy. 

What  passed  in  that  next  half-hour  is  known 
only  to  God  and  her  own  soul.  But  when  she 
rose  there  was  a  glory  in  her  bosom  unknown 
before ;  and  raising  her  eyes  to  the  blue  skies 
smiling  upon  her,  she  repeated  tearfully  : 

"  Just  as  I  am,  Thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down ; 
Now  fro  be  Thine,  yea.  Thine  alone, 
O  Lamb  of  God,  I  come,  I  come  !" 

The  walk  back  to  Miss  Grey's  was  quieter ;  and 
opening  the  front  door,  she  mounted  the  stairs 
softly,  and  peeped  into  Alice's  room.  The  dear 
teacher,  who  had  spent  the  interval  in  prayer, 
rising  from  her  knees  with  God's  own  "  Yes "  in 
her  soul,  felt  not  a  ripple  of  surprise  when  met 
by  that  glowing  face.  She  only  pressed  the  dear 
girl  to  her  bosom,  and  said  : 

"  I  am  so  glad.     Let  us  praise  God." 
And  seldom  has  more  heartfelt  melody  arisen 
than   that  which   ascended  from  that  chamber  as 
Alice   and    Yensie    united    their   voices    in    that 
thanksgiving  psalm  of  the  centuries  : 

"  Praise  God  from  whom  all  blessings  flow." 


68  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Only  one  short  afternoon !  But  in  its  fleeting 
hours  decision  had  been  made  for  eternity.  Alice 
Gi-ey  had  added  with  her  trembling  hand,  another 
jewel  to  the  Master's  crown. 

Yensie  walked  home  as  if  she  were  winged.  A 
thrill  of  rapture  in  her  soul  new  and  delightful. 
All  the  world  seemed  full  of  God,  and  she  was  not 
afraid  at  his  presence.  And  sweet  Alice  Grey  — 
white-souled,  brave-hearted  Alice  Grey  —  kneeling 
in  her  chamber,  thanked  God  for  her  child's  con 
version  as  she  had  not  for  her  own. 

A  crowned  saint,  even  on  earth ;  hers  was  a 
calm,  sweet  walk  with  God  —  such  a  life  as  every 
Christian  should  covet.  Always  trustful,  always 
restful  —  the  two  are  inseparable  —  the  deep  sound 
ings  of  joy  and  peace  were  hers. 

"  Oh,  the  rapturous  height !  "  sang  Yensie,  home 
ward  bound. 

"  Depths  of  mercy  !  "  This  was  the  cry  of  this 
sanctified  soul. 

Later  that  afternoon,  as  the  shadows  gathered,  a 
conversation  was  going  on  in  the  attic  at  the  red 
farm-house. 

"Ennie,"  said  little  Maude  —  white-robed  little 
Maude  —  who,  prayers  ended,  sat  in  Yensie's  lap 
listening  to  her  evening  song.  "Ennie,  what 
makes  you  sing  so  to-night?"  With  marked  em 
phasis  on  the  little  adverb. 

"  So,  how  darling  ?  Does  my  singing  sound  dif 
ferent,  to-night  ?  "  inquired  her  cousin. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  69 

"Yes,  there's  somefin'  different,  I  fink  it's  the 
happy  in  it,"  said  the  little  innocent. 

"  Why,  that's  because  my  heart  is  so  glad,"  re 
plied  Yensie.  "  I  love  Jesus  to-night,  Violet." 

"And  didn't  you  always  love  Him  ?  "  asked  the 
prattler  in  unfeigned  astonishment. 

"  No,  darling,  I've  been  very  wicked ;  not  like 
you.  You  seem  to  have  been  born  good  ;  but  I —  I 
fear  sometimes  I  almost  hated  God  because  he  took 
my  father  and  mother.  But  I  don't  now,"  to  re 
lieve  the  horror  in  the  blue  eyes. 

"  It's  drefful  wicked  to  hate,  isn't  it,  Ennie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  darling,  I  don't  hate  to-night ;  I  love  ev 
erybody." 

"  My  mother  ?  "  in  an  inquiring  tone. 

"  Yes,  your  mother,  Maude,"  said  the  girl,  kiss 
ing  the  sweet  face  fondly.  "  And,  O  little  Violet, 
if  you  only  could  know  how  happy  I  am." 

"Is  you  a  Christian,  Ennie  ?" 

"  I  think  so,  Maude.  I  must  be,  if  that  means 
to  have  Christ  in  you.  It  does  seem  as  if  Jesus 
was  right  here,"  placing  her  hand  on  her  heart. 
He  makes  me  so  happy  I  am  almost  afraid  to  go  to 
sleep,  for  fear  I  may  lose  my  joy." 

The  little  one  looked  up  earnestly  : 

"  We  can't  lose  what  God  gives  us,  can  we, 
Ennie  ?  'Cause  he'd  know  just  where  it  was  lost 
and  tell  us  where  to  find  it  again." 

"  True,  you  darling  !  " 

"Ennie,  does  little  children  ever  be  Christians?'' 
asked  the  child  now. 


70  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  Oh  yes,  darling ;  don't  you  remember  what 
Jesus  said :  '  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto 
me,  and  forbid  them  not?' "  answered  Yensie. 

"  Perhaps  that  means  heaven,"  said  the  little 
one,  doubtingly. 

"  He  said  it  when  on  earth,"  was  the  answer. 
"  And  no  one  can  go  to  Him  there,  who  has  not 
first  been  to  him  here." 

"  Then  I  guess  I'll  ask  him  now,"  slipping  off 
from  Yensie's  knee. 

"  Ask  him  what,  puss  ?  " 

"  To  come  into  my  heart  like  he  did  into  yours, 
Ennie,"  and  the  violet  eyes  closed,  the  sAveet 
mouth  moved,  as  she  knelt  silently  beside  her 
cousin.  It  was  her  habit  always,  after  "Now  I 
lay  me,"  to  pray  her  "  inside  prayer,"  as  she  called 
it ;  probably  because  she  never  revealed  its  request 
to  other  than  God. 

"  Ennie,  He  always  gives  me  what  I  ask  for," 
she  said,  climbing  to  her  old  place  on  the  maiden's 
knee.  "  Do  you  s'pose  "  —  that  far-away,  un 
earthly  light  in  her  eyes,  so  often  there  of  late  — 
"  do  you  s'pose  it's  as  nice  to  have  a  little  of  the 
glory  here,"  putting  her  hand  to  her  breast,  "  as  it 
will  be  to  be  in  the  big  glory  up  there,"  pointing 
reverently  to  the  sky. 

"  No  dear,  I  think  not,"  replied  Yensie,  thought 
fully,  speaking  more  to  herself  than  to  the  child. 
"  It  can't  be,  for  Paul  says ,  '  Christ  in  you  the 
hope  of  glory,'  as  if  it  really  was  not  the  glory 
itself." 


YENSIE   WALTON.  71 

"  Oh,  I'd  like  to  be  there !  I  fink  I'd  ask  Him 
to  take  me,  Ennie,"  said  the  little  girl ;  the  mar 
vellous  light  in  her  eyes  growing  deeper. 

"  Violet,  darling,  are  you  sick  ?  "  cried  Yensie, 
a  terrible  fear  creeping  over  her. 

"  No,  I's  tired,  Ennie,"  answered  the  child,  sigh- 
ing;  and  the  young  girl  could  but  think  of  that 
other  one  who  had  used  the  same  word  that  day. 

A  few  hours  since,  and  she  would  have  risen  in 
arms  against  the  power  which  threatened  to  be 
reave  her ;  now  she  whispered  :  "  God  is  good,  he 
will  spare  them  to  me." 

Yes,  God  is  good.  She  did  not,  could  not,  real 
ize  then,  as  she  did  in  after  years,  that  it  is  because 
he  is  good,  because  he  loves  us,  that  he  takes  so 
many  of  our  dearest  to  his  bosom. 

With  the  little  one  folded  in  her  arms,  she  sang 
until  the  white  eyelids  drooped  over  the  wondrous 
eyes,  and  long  after  watched,  as  her  darling  slum 
bered  ;  but  her  warblings  were  hushed  for  that 
night.  The  bird  had  not  lost  its  song,  but  her 
heart  was  keyed  to  more  subdued  strains. 


CHAPTER    VI. 


"And  quick  the  glad  tears  start  — for  what  am  I  ? 

That  all  this  sweetness  should  so  thrill  and  bless  ? 
A  hat  brooding  love  from  out  the  low,  near  sky, 
Should  stoop  to  comfort  me  with  such  tenderness  ?" 

—  ANNA  BOYNTON  AVERILL. 


EVER  rose  brighter  morning  sun  on  fairer 
summer  day,  than  this,  Yensie's  "first 
day  "  as  she  called  it.  The  evening  clouds 
which  had  so  suddenly  arisen  on  her  horizon  were 
dissipated  by  the  morning  sun,  and  seldom  has 
Sabbath  echoed  to  a  gladder  song  of  praise. 

Mrs.  Walton  marvelled  as  the  girl  flitted  hither 
and  thither,  doing  up  her  morning's  work,  and  at 
last  broke  forth  with  : 
72 


YENSIE  WALTON.  73 

"  What  has  got  inter  you,  Yensie  ?  I  shouldn't 
know  you  for  the  same  girl." 

Her  niece  smiled:  "I  expect  God  has  got  in, 
Aunt  Sarah.  I  have  found  the  Saviour." 

The  astonishment  on  Mrs.  Walton's  face  abated 
not  a  whit  at  this  answer,  and  her  husband  started 
suddenly  for  the  door.  There  he  stood  looking 
over  the  fields  as  if  suddenly  interested  in  some 
thing,  though  how  he  could  see,  with  that  strange 
mistiness  over  his  eyes,  was  a  mystery. 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Walton  seldom  went  to  church 
in  haying  time.  Fred  was  excused  this  morning 
on  plea  of  a  headache ;  but  long  before  the  church- 
bells  rang,  Yensie,  all  prepared,  thrust  her  head  in 
at  Milly's  door : 

"  Mildred  are  you  ready  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Mercy  no,  not  half.  It  isn't  time  yet,  any 
svay.  What  on  earth  are  you  thinking  of  to  start 
so  early?"  answered  her  cousin. 

"  I  want  to  drop  in  at  Mr.  Goodale's  for  a  few 
moments,"  Yensie  replied. 

"  And  you're  welcome,  for  all  of  me,"  was  the 
quick  response.  "I  get  enough  preaching  at 
church  without  calling  on  purpose  to  get  a  little 
thrown  in.  Go  along ;  I'll  get  there  in  time." 
And  waiting  for  no  more,  her  cousin  disappeared. 

The  whole  earth  was  chanting  praises  this  morn 
ing— 

"  Bird  and  bee  and  flowing  fountain," 


74  YENSIE  WALTON. 

and  the   light-hearted  girl   soon  stood  before  the 
minister's  unpretentious  house. 

A  moment's  hesitation  —  the  next,  a  mild-faced, 
middle-aged  lady  with  the  meekest  of  meek  blue 
eyes,  opened  the  door.  This  was  Mr.  Goodale's 
sweet  little  wife  ;  and  if  ever  woman  deserved  the 
name  of  help-meet  she  did.  Often  her  husband 
wondered  how  he  could  live  without  her. 

"  Why,  Yensie,  is  it  you  ?  "  said  the  little  lady, 
scarcely  believing  her  own  eyes.  Then  answering 
the  look  of  inquiry  with  which  the  young  girl 
swept  the  apartment  into  which  she  had  been 
ushered : 

"Did  you  want  to  see  Mr.  Goodale,  my  dear? 
This  way,"  in  answer  to  Yensie's  affirmative. 
"  Right  up  these  stairs,  first  door  to  the  right." 
And  Yensie  stood  before  her.  pastor's  study  door. 
This  was  her  first  visit  to  that  Bethel  where  one 
holy  man  of  God  held  intercourse  with  heaven. 
It  was  not  to  be  her  last.  How  often,  in  after 
years,  she  sought  that  spot  for  help,  for  guidance, 
for  comfort  and  sympathy.  Some  one  has  truly 
said  that  our  Heavenly  Father  never  removes  one 
blessing  from  us  without  giving  us  another  in  its 
place.  As  Alice  Grey's  labor  of  love  drew  near 
its  close,  pastor  Goodale's  began. 

A  half-timid  little  rap,  answered  by  a  cheery 
"  Come  in,"  and  the  girl  stood  by  the  good  man's 
side.  He  did  not  stop  the  selection  of  hymns 


YENSIE  WALTON.  75 

with  which  he  was  occupied,  did  not  look  up  ;  but 
said  quietly : 

"  "Well,  my  dear  ?  "  in  a  questioning  tone. 

"  Mr.  Goodale,"  began  Yensie,  timidly ;  but  the 
book  fell  together  on  the  table,  her  pastor  was 
upon  his  feet,  a  look  of  mingled  surprise  and  pleas 
ure  on  his  face. 

"  Pardon  me,  Yensie,  I  thought  it  was  my  wife 
who  entered.  Take  a  seat."  And  he  peered  into 
the  bright  face  as  if  there  to  read  her  errand. 

"  O,  Mi'.  Goodale,"  she  cried  impulsively,  using 
the  same  words  which,  falling  from  the  lips  of 
young  and  old  these  eighteen  centuries,  have 
cheered  the  hearts  of  countless  weary  servants  of 
God  —  "  O,  Mr.  Goodale,  I  have  found  Jesus !  " 
And  he  who  had  prayed  and  wrestled  for  this  soul 
as  Jacob  for  his  blessing,  mingled  his  tears  of 
gratitude  with  hers. 

"Tell  me  all  about  it,"  he  said,  presently. 

"It  seems  so  much  to  experience,  and  yet  so 
little  to  tell,"  she  answered.  "  I  went  to  see  Miss 
Grey  yesterday  afternoon,  and  she  talked  with 
me.  I  never  could  turn  away  from  her,  somehow, 
and  what  she  said  seemed  to  break  my  heart.  I 
felt  as  if  I  should  die,  suffocate,  if  I  did  not  get 
help;  and  I  ran  off  and  left  her.  Out  in  the 
woods,  under  the  trees,  I  prayed  ;  and  then  such  a 
peace  came.  Nothing  I  can  explain,  but  it  seemed 
somehow  that  I  had  been  far  off,  straying  away  not 
only  from  God,  but  from  everything  pure  and 


76  YENSIE^  WALTON. 

good ;  and  then  I  came  back  —  back  into  harmony 
with  all  creation  and  its  Creator. 

The  minister's  hand  was  on  her  head. 

*'  God  be  praised  !  "  he  said  fervently,  "  and  may 
he  make  you  a  blessing  to  many  souls." 

"  Oh,  that  is  it,  she  said  tearfully.  "  I  want  to 
do  something  now  for  him." 

"  And  he  has  plenty  for  you  to  do,"  answered 
her  pastor.  "  Keep  your  eyes  open,  dear  child ; 
work  lies  all  around  you,  for  '  the  harvest  is  great 
and  the  laborers  are  few.'  " 

A  few  minutes  after,  Mr.  Goodale  placed  Yen- 
sie's  hand  in  that  of  his  wife  : 

"A  lamb  of  the  fold,  Eliza,"  was  all  he  said. 
But  she  understood,  as  perhaps,  only  a  minister's 
wife  can,  how  much  this  meant,  said  of  one  for 
whom  so  man)'-  prayers  had  arisen. 

"  The  first  dropping  of  a  mighty  shower,  I 
trust,"  she  answered,  smiling  into  his  face. 

Yensie  did  not  soon  forget  the  words  with  which 
she  was  dismissed  at  the  door : 

"  You  have  brought  me  just  the  stimulus  I 
needed  for  this  day's  labor." 

It  was  still  early  when  Yensie  reached  the 
church.  As  she  walked  up  the  aisle  she  could  but 
remember  how  often  she  had  brought  a  weary, 
restless,  hungering  heart  there  with  her.  She  had 
walked  these  aisles  when  life  was  a  burden  to  her  ; 
when  longings,  for  she  knew  not  what,  had  made  a 
perfect  torment  within.  Never  before  had  she  en- 


YENSIE   WALTON.  77 

terecl  those  walls  with  a  heart  at  peace  with  itself ; 
never  with  this  sense  of  restfulness.  With  a  sigh 
of  satisfaction  she  ascended  the  staircase  and  took 
her  seat  in  the  gallery  just  opposite  the  pulpit, 
where  the  members  of  the  choir  sat. 

She  noted  the  worshippers  as  they  came  in  :  Old 
Thomas  Quilb,  the  village  blacksmith,  Miss  Nancy 
Ray,  the  garrulous  spinster,  who  had  more  than 
once  warned  her  of  her  future  condition  out  of 
Christ,  good  Dr.  Morse  and  his  wife,  Deacon  and 
Mrs.  Wyly  and  their  grown-up  daughters,  then  a 
little  cluster  of  girls  who  were  giggling  at  the 
bright  yellow  roses  in  Miss  Nancy's  red  silk 
bonnet.  They  began  to  come  faster  now ;  widow 
Hastings  and  her  two  little  girls,  Squire  Grey  and 
Alice  —  her  heart  gave  a  throb  of  joy  at  sight  of 
this  dear  form. 

"  Look,"  said  Milly,  who  had  arrived  and  taken 
a  seat  beside  her  cousin,  "there's  the  folks  from 
the  '  White  House,'  "  in  a  loud  whisper,  "  There's 
Robinson  himself,  I  declare.  Brought  them  all  to 
show  off  the  church  he  built,  I  suppose.  I  bet 
that  lady  next  to  him,  in  the  stiff  silk  is  the  one 
he  is  going  to  marry.  Don't  I  wish  I  stood  in  her 
shoes." 

Yensie's  low,  "  Hush,  you  attract  attention, 
Milly,"  had  no  other  effect  but  to  cause  her  to 
Jower  her  voice. 

"  If  there  isn't  that  handsome  fellow ;  isn't  he 
elegant?  The  one  with  the  curly  head,  I  mean. 


78  YENSIE  WALTOS. 

Who  do  yon  suppose  that  big  fellow  is  ?  "  desig 
nating  a  tall,  broad-shouldered  young  man,  who 
followed  Harry  Campbell  into  the  pew. 

"  They  say  that  little  girl  with  the  light  hair  is 
Harry  Campbell's  sister.  Isn't  she  lucky  ?  " 
sighed  Mildred,  just  as  Mr.  Goodale,  rising  to  in 
voke  the  Divine  blessing,  stopped  all  further  com 
ments. 

Was  the  good  preacher  better  this  morning  than 
common  ?  Had  Yensie's  stimulus  added  to  his 
usual  earnestness  and  warmth  of  manner?  Had 
his  faith  grown  larger?  Certainly  more  of  his 
hearers  than  the  little  girl  in  the  choir  were  won 
derfully  blessed  and  edified.  As  for  Yensie,  she 
sat  as  in  a  glorious  dream,  unconscious  of  every 
thing  but  the  service  in  which  she  participated, 
the  sermon  to  which  she  listened.  More  than  once 
the  preacher's  eyes  were  lifted  to  the  gallery,  gath 
ering  fresh  inspiration  from  every  glimpse  of  that 
glowing,  attentive  face. 

The  choir  of  Wynn  was  not  intended  to  super 
sede  congregational  singing,  but  rather  to  lead  it. 
Few  choirs,  however,  can  boast  a  voice  as  sweet 
and  powerful  as  Yensie  Walton's.  It  had  unusual 
power  to-day,  of  which,  perhaps,  no  one  in  the 
congregation  was  unconscious  save  herself.  Two 
at  least  of  her  listeners  guessed  the  cause. 

During  the  singing  the  congregation  turned  and 
faced  the  gallery.  As  the  first  clear  tones  rang 
out,  every  eye  in  Mr.  Robinson's  pew  was  lifted 


YENSIE  WALTON.  79 

involuntarily  to  the  choir.  Harry  Campbell  and 
his  sister  never  removed  their  eyes  for  a  moment, 
from  the  singer's  face,  but  the  other  young  man, 
Herbert  Gardenell,  let  his  eyes  drop  again,  though 
his  grave  face  no  less  expressed  his  marked 
pleasure. 

Mildred's  bright  eyes  saw  all  this ;  knew  whose 
voice  elicited  such  involuntary  homage.  She  gave 
her  cousin  a  little  nudge  which  was  entirely  lost, 
however,  as  she  did  not  know  its  import. 

"Rather  a  pretty  singer,  Mr.  Gardenell,"  re 
marked  simpering  Miss  Grant,  as  they  pursued 
their  way  home  from  church  that  morning. 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  remarked  the  face,"  re 
plied  the  young  man,  abstractedly ;  "  but  her 
voice  was  very  superior." 

"  Now  isn't  that  just  like  you,  Gardenell  ?  "  said 
Harry  Campbell,  running  his  arm  through  Herbert's 
(a  few  of  them  had  preferred  walking  home). 

"  Miss  Grant,  I  assure  you  this  young  man  has 
no  idea  whatever  of  female  loveliness.  Now  I 
really  don't  believe  he  could  possibly  tell  the  color 
of  your  eyes  if  he  was  hung  for  his  folly.  He's 
worse  than  a  Hottentot.  I  declare,  I  looked  at 
that  little  girl  right  well,  and  found  it  such  pleas 
ant  work,  I  felt  very  sorry  each  time  I  was  forced 
to  sit  down  and  turn  my  back  to  her,"  laughing. 

"  O,  Mr.  Harry,"  laughed  Miss  Grant.  "  You 
have  both  mistaken  my  meaning.  I  did  not  refer 


80  YENSIE    WALTON. 

to  the  face,  but  voice  of  the  young  girl,  when  I 
called  her  a  pretty  singer.  Are  country  girls  ever 
very  pretty,  think  you  ?  " 

"  Ought  to  be,"  said  Harry,  dryly ;  feeling  called 
upon  to  answer  this  question,  as  his  friend  re 
mained  silent.  "  Ought  to  be,  since  ladies  in  gen 
eral  seek  the  country  to  recruit  decaying  charms. 

Then  turning  to  Herbert :  "  Bless  me,  Gar- 
denell,  how  that  old  chap  did  give  it  to  us  poor  sin 
ners  !  I  didn't  know  but  you  had  given  him  a 
private  account  of  my  condition,  as  he  pecked 
away  at  such  a  rate.  It  has  made  me  positively 
uneasy.  I  fear  it  will  not  be  best  for  me  to  trust 
myself  there  again.  I  suppose  now,  Gard,  that's 
what  you  call  an  out  and  out  orthodox  dish." 

"It  is  truth  well  told,  Harry,"  answered  his 
friend,  smiling.  "  Which  two  things  do  not  always 
go  together." 

Meanwhile  a  conversation  was  going  on  between 
Yensie  Walton  and  her  Sabbath-school  superin 
tendent. 

"  I  wish  you  would  take  the  class,  Miss  Walton/' 
said  the  kindly  gentleman.  "  I  have  been  praying 
for  a  teacher  for  those  scholars  this  long  while, 
and  have  felt  drawn  towards  you.  They  are  little 
ones,  remember  —  only  babes." 

"  Yes  sir,  and  that  is  just  what  I  am  myself,  re 
ligiously  ;  just  learning  the  alphabet.  Oh  no,  Mr. 
True,  you  must  find  some  one  else,  I  cannot  teach 
them." 


YENSIB  WALTON.  81 

"  Sometimes,"  still  persisted  the  good  man,  "  a 
little  one,  just  learning  his  letters,  gets  more  help 
from  another,  similarly  situated  than  he  can  from 
those  years  ahead  of  him,  who  deem  his  but  a 
small  attainment." 

"Possibly,"  Yensie  replied,  smiling,  "but  in 
deed,  I  must  decline,"  turning  away  decidedly,  and 
Mr.  True  went  back  to  his  desk. 

He  was  a  conscientious  man,  and  rather  than 
pat  an  unconverted  person  over  these  little  ones, 
deprived  of  their  teacher  by  a  protracted  illness, 
had  assumed  the  office  of  teacher  himself ;  which 
pressed  heavily  upon  him,  colliding  somewhat  with 
his  other  duties.  He  had  hailed  with  delight  the 
announcement  of  Yensie's  conversion,  whispered 
in  his  ear  by  his  pastor,  not  only  for  her  own  sake, 
but  because  he  had  long  felt  her  adaptedness  to 
this  work. 

Now  he  turned  back  to  his  desk  somewhat  dis 
heartened  ,  and  Mr.  Goodale,  who  had  seconded 
him  in  LL-*  attempt,  saw  by  his  face  that  he  had 
been  r^fvi^d.  He  quietly  stepped  from  his  place 
on  tlie-  platform,  by  the  superintendent,  and  sought 
the  refractory  young  lady. 

"  Yensie  what  reason,  have  you  given  Mr.  True 
for  refusing  to  take  Miss  Rogan's  class  ?  "  he  asked, 
eyeing  her  coolly. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Goodale,  "  she  answered  in  surprise, 
"  my  inability  of  course.  I  am  but  a  learner  my 
self." 


82  YENSIE   WALTON. 

.  * 

"And  always  will  be,  I  trust,  my  child,"  he  said, 
kindly.  "  But  I  thought  you  told  me  you  were 
anxious  to  do  something  for  your  Saviour  ?  " 

"  I  am,  Mr.  Goodale  ;  anything  I  can  do  —  this 
I  cannot." 

"  Have  you  tried  ?  "  quietly. 

"  No  sir,  but  then  there  is  no  need,  I  know  so 
little,  myself,"  she  answered,  hesitatingly. 

"  Would  you  fear  to  relieve  Miss  Grey  of  her 
school  duties  for  a  few  weeks,  if  she  were  ill,  and 
so  required  ?  " 

"  No  sir." 

"  Why  not,  Yensie  ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  been  over  all  that  any  of  her 
scholars  have,  and  would  know  where  to  go  for 
help  if  needed." 

"  Very  good,"  replied  her  pastor.  "  And  now 
have  you  not  been  all  over  the  road  of  these  little 
ones  out  of  Christ,  seeing  you  have  reached  salva 
tion.  And  if  you  ever  need  help,  have  you  not 
One  abundantly  able  and  willing  to  give  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  sir,  I  never  thought  of  it  in  just  this  way 
before.  But" — and  she  hesitated  again  —  "but 
don't  you  think  it  is  a  little  different  ?  You  can't 
think,  Mr.  Goodale,  how  ignorant  I  feel  of  heav 
enly  things.  I  need  to  be  a  learner  myself." 

The  good  pastor  smiled.  "  My  dear  child,"  he 
said,  "  I  think  I  do  know  how  ignorant  you  feel. 
I  think  you  will  not  get  wholly  rid  of  that  feeling, 
even  when  as  old  in  the  way  as  your  pastor. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  83 

There  is  always  something  ahead,  otherwise  we 
should  scarcely  enjoy  it  as  much.  If  you  had 
gleaned  all  the  knowledge  that  books  could  give," 
—  he  understood  her  love  of  learning — "I  imagine 
you  would  feel  like  Alexander,  constrained  to 
weep  for  more  to  conquer.  We  shall  always  be 
learners.  A  true  teacher  never  gives  up  study; 
ask  Miss  Grey.  And,  little  girl,  did  you  never  find 
that  by  trying  to  impart  to  others  you  had  gained 
yourself?  " 

Yensie  thought  of  Maude  as  she  answered: 
"  Yes,  sir." 

"  It  is  a  blessed  thing  to  give,  Yensie.  It  is  the 
only  true  way  to  get.  It  rather  enriches  than 
impoverishes  us.  Look  at  God,  at  Christ,  our 
great  Example,  who  gave  His  life,  yet  really  only 
added  to  it,  since  it  thereby  took  in  the  length  and 
breadth  of  millions  of  saved  souls.  Never  hoard 
one  hour's  blessedness,  dear  child,  '  That  which  the 
fountain  sends  forth  returns  again  to  the  fountain,' 
and  by  a  never-failing  rule,  those  who  bless  others 
are  much  more  largely  blessed  themselves." 

Yensie,  who  had  been  listening  eagerly  to  every 
word  falling  from  those  beloved  lips,  answered 
timidly : 

"  I  trust,  Mr.  Goodale,  you  will  not  think  I  am 
unwilling  that  others  should  enjoy  all  I  do,  or  to 
help  them  there  when  I  can." 

"  No,  dear  child,"  he  said,  laying  his  hand  kindly 
on  hers.  "  1  think  no  such  thing  ;  but  I  do  think 


84  YENSIE  WALTON. 

you  may  have  erroneous  ideas  of  the  position  of 
teacher  and  scholar,  and  also  of  true  modesty. 
That  you  are  a  learner  at  Miss  Grey's  school  does 
not  unfit,  but  really  prepares  you,  to  teach  Maude 
and  help  Fred  at  home.  How  much  more  with 
the  Holy  Spirit  for  }rour  teacher,  ought  you  to  be 
prepared  to  impart  to  those  younger  than  yourself 
in  holy  things.  And  remember,  now  and  ever, 
Yensie,  that  true  humility  believes  Jesus  knows 
best,  and  when  he  says  :  this  way ;  walks  there, 
though  it  may  seem  to  others,  as  well  as  to  them 
selves,  exalted  or  debased  more  than  their  desert. 
When  he  calls  you  to  a  certain  path  never  fear  to 
tread  it." 

"  But  that  is  just  the  trouble,  Mr.  Goodale,"  she 
answered.  "  If  I  were  always  sure  of  his  call." 

"  '  The  sheep  hear  His  voice,' "  replied  her  pas 
tor.  "  Opportunity  and  ability  constitute  a  call. 
Here  is  the  opportunity  for  labor.  Who  shall  say 
he  has  no  ability,  while  Jesus  still  cries : '  Ask  and 
ye  shall  receive.'  '  If  ye  shall  ask  anything  in  my 
name,  I  will  do  it.'  '  All  power  is  given  unto  me 
in  heaven  and  in  earth.'  'Lo,  I  am  with  you 
alway,  even  unto  the  end.'  '  If  any  man  laok 
wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God.'  If  we  lack  'tis  our 
own  fault,  is  it  not,  Yensie?  My  precious  girl," 
he  added,  turning  to  go,  "  Things  present,  or  things 
to  come ;  all  are  yours,  and  you  are  Christ's,  and 
Christ  is  God's." 

The  young  girl  bowed  her  head  a  moment  in 


YENSIE   WALTON. 


85 


pray  " ,  then  with  a  few  words  to  her  Sabbath- 
school  teacher,  made  her  way  to  the  desk. 

"  Mr.  True,  I  will  take  the  class,"  she  said ; 
thereby  lifting  a  load  from  her  superintendent's 
breast. 


CHAPTER  VII. 


"Oh!  lull  me,  lull  me,  charming  air! 

My  senses  rock  with  wonder  sweet: 
Like  snow  on  wool  thy  fallings  are  ; 
Soft,  like  a  spirit's,  are  thy  feet, 
Grief  who  need  fear 
That  hath  an  ear  ? 
Down  let  him  lie 
And  slumbering  die, 
And  change  his  soul  for  harmony." 

—  DUYDE:Y. 


HE  weather  was  unusually  pleasant  for 
August.  Farmer  Walton  was  unusually 
busy,  and  both  the  girls  found  work  in 
abundance ;  yet,  as  young  people  will,  they  still 
found  leisure  for  their  favorite  employments. 

One  afternoon,  soon  after  Yensie's  memorable 
visit  to  Alice  Grey's,  Milly,  in  her  cool  muslin  suit 
started  for  the  village,  and  her  cousin,  with  pre 
cious  Violet,  started  for  the  woods. 
86 


YENSIP]    WALTON.  87 

Yensie  ]  id  declared  it  too  hot  to  travel  so  far 
when  urged  by  Mildred  to  accompany  her ;  but  as 
soon  as  that  young  lady  was  fairly  out  of  sight, 
clad  in  a  neat  calico,  book  in  hand,  she  proceeded 
with  Maude  to  the  wooded  lot.  This  lot  was 
near  enough  to  the  house  to  keep  it  ever  in  view ; 
yet  so  situated  as  to  shelter  her  from  the  observation 
of  any  one  within  the  farm-house. 

Down  'neath  the  shelter  of  the  grand  old  trees 
—  many  of  them  only  spared  because  of  her  earn 
est  entreaties —  her  back  leaning  against  the  large 
stump  of  a  forest  monarch  laid  low,  yet  showing 
unmistakable  signs  of  life  in  the  fresh,  slender, 
green  shoots  bristling  on  it  from  every  side,  book 
open  on  her  lap,  she  sat  dreaming. 

Yensie  had  been  reading.  But  somehow,  the 
very  words  she  read  set  her  off  on  one  of  those 
strange,  vague,  fanciful  reveries  so  natural  to  her. 
And  now  she  sat  with  scarcely  conscious  eyes, 
watching  Violet  in  her  busy  search  for  vines  and 
flowers,  her  mind  far,  far  away. 

"  O,  Ennie,"  cried  the  child,  partially  arousing 
her,  "  isn't  these  buful  ?  I'm  going  to  make  you  a 
queen."  And  soon  the  dainty  baby  hands  were 
wreathing  the  dark  locks  with  summer  glories. 

One  by  one  the  pins  which  confined  the  heavy 
coils  were  removed  by  the  nimble  fingers,  to  make 
way  for  "flower-pins,"  as  she  called  them,  and 
then  all  finished,  the  wee  fairy  took  her  stand  in 
front  to  admire  the  work  of  her  own  hands. 


88  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  I've  n.ade  you  just  lovely.  I  wish  I  had  a 
looking-glass  for  you  to  see,"  she  cried,  clapping 
her  hands.  "  Now  you're  a  queen,  and  I  wish  the 
prince  would  come ;  you  know,  the  one  that 
came  for  Cinderella,"  said  the  prattler,  perching 
herself  on  the  girl's  knee  and  looking  into  her 
face. 

"  I've  found  my  Prince,"  said  Yensie,  softly,  her 
eyes  full  of  satisfied  love,  "my  Prince  Immanuel." 

"Oh,  that  makes  me  fink,"  said  the  little  one 
"  and  perhaps  you'd  like  to  hear  it.  I  fought  I'd 
tell  you  sometime  if  you'd  promise  not  to  stop 
me."" 

"  Stop  you,  darling,  how  ?  "  inquired  Yensie. 

"  Didn't  you  tell  me  He'd  say  '  yes  '  always,  if 
we  asked  in  Jesus'  name  ?  Don't  ask  Him,  will 
you,  Ennie?"  and  the  little  girl  patted  the  fair 
cheek,  coaxingly. 

Little  Violet,  little  Violet,  you  have  not  told  me 
yet  what  I  am  not  to  ask.  How  can  I  promise 
until  I  know?  "asked  Yensie,  effectually  aroused 
from  her  dreaming. 

"  Oh,  I  fordot !  Well,  you  see,"  began  the  dar 
ling,  nestling  her  golden  head  close  to  that  loving 
bosom,  "  you  know  I  told  you  I  fought  I  would 
ask  Him  sometime  to  take  me  where  He  is,  and  I 
did.  I  hope  you  won't  try  to  stop  Him,  Ennie," 
lifting  sweet,  inquiring  eyes  upward. 

Yensie  felt  her  heart  give  a  great  throb  and 
stop.  Then  her  arms  folded  tightly  about  the 


YENSIE   WALTON.  89 

Blender  form,  as  she  asked  in  a  voice  striving  for 
calmness : 

"  Why  does  my  Violet  want  to  go  ?  " 

"  O,  Ennie,  I  want  to  see  Jesus ;  that  is  the 
most.  Then  the  tired  grows" — hesitatingly,  as  if 
fearing  to  wound  —  "  worse.  I  want  to  rest,"  she 
added  plaintively.  "  And  O,  Ennie,  I'm  most 
sure  he  said,  '  yes.'  You  wouldn't  like  to  stop  me 
if  I  was  going  to  him  to  rest,  his  arms  will  be  so 
strong,  and  his  bosom  so  broad,  I'll  never  be  tired 
any  more." 

The  great,  purple-blue  eyes,  filled  with  a  glory 
not  of  earth,  met  the  fixed  gaze  of  unspoken  agony 
in  those  above ;  and  Yensie,  looking  in  their 
depths,  felt  her  grasp  loosening  on  her  treasure, 
and  dared  not  ask  it  otherwise.  There  were  a  few 
moments  of  unbroken  silence,  while  the  maiden 
battled  with  the  waves  of  anguish  surging  through 
her  soul ;  the  little  hands,  so  precious  in  their  min 
istry —  now  nearty  ended  —  meanwhile  smoothing 
cheek,  and  hair,  and  brow. 

"  O,  Ennie,"  at  last  she  said,  whisperingly,  "  O, 
Ennie,  don't  look  so  !  If  He  came  for  you,  I'd  say 
yes,  because  I  love  you,  Ennie,  and  because  you'd 
be  so  happy." 

Yensie  stooped  and  kissed  the  white  brow. 

"  I  am  selfish,  little  Maude,  very  selfish,"  she 
said,  "  but  I  will  try  to  overcome  it.-** 

"  And  you'll  say,  yes,"  with  a  bright  little  smile. 

"  I  dare  not  say  no,"  the  girl  answered,  brokenly. 


90  YENSIE   WALtON. 

"  That  isn't  a  cheerful  giver  is  it  ?  "  inquired  the 
child.  "  You  know  the  verse  you  taught  me,  said, 
'  God  loveth  a  cheerful  giver.'  " 

"Oh,  little  one,"  cried  Yensie,  clasping  her  to 
her  bosom,  "I  am  but  human.  Surely  He  who 
was  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities, 
can  understand,  and  will  not  condemn  me.  My 
Violet,  God  will  teach  your  Ennie  to  say  yes, 
some  day,  but  O,  I  cannot  say  it  now." 

Maude,  as  if  understanding,  put  up  her  sweet 
mouth  and  kissed  the  trembling  lips  of  her  cousin, 
whispering : 

"  111  tell  you  all  about  it.  He  came  to  me  the 
other  night,  when  I  was  asleep,  and  took  me  in  his 
arms,  and  called  me  his  little  lamb.  I  was  so 
happy  I  was  sorry  when  I  woke  and  found  I  lived, 
till  I  fought  of  you ;  for  I  fought  you'd  rather 
know  he  was  coming  and  be  ready,  so  I  told  you. 
Now  Ennie,  please  sing  ?  " 

Yensie's  stricken  heart  felt  like  anything  but 
song.  Yet  obedient  to  the  child's  request,  she 
sang  hymn  after  hymn,  until  at  length  their  sooth 
ing  sank  into  her  o\vn  breast,  alleviating  its  agony. 

Great  is  the  power  of  sacred  song !  Who  has 
not  felt  it  lulling  to  calm  the  discordance  of  his 
soul?  Who  has  not  felt  great  thoughts  stirring 
within  him  under  its  magical  influence  ?  Pity  the 
child  whose  heart  responds  not  to  a  mother's 
psalmody,  the  man  who  never  feels  his  soul  pulsate 
to  its  divine  vibrations !  They  have  been  robbed 


YENSIE   WALTON.  91 

of  one  of  Nature's  choicest  gifts,  and  walk  amid 
their  fellows  soul-dwarfed. 

One  little  word  of  comfort  Violet  dropped : 

"  You  have  me  now,  Ennie." 

How  true  this  was !  She  felt  the  little  head 
upon  her  bosom,  held  the  little  hands  within  her 
own ;  and  prone  as  humanity  will  ever  be  to  put 
away  its  sorrow,  and  press  calamity  upon  some 
future  morrow,  ere  long  the  maiden  smiled  again 
upon  the  waiting  face. 

The  restfulness  settling  upon  her  heart  was  mir 
rored  in  her  countenance,  and  with  her  child-desire 
to  help  it  on,  Maude  named  hymn  after  hymn, 
leading  her  on  to  cheerful  themes  and  bird-like 
melodies. 

"Now,"  she  cried  at  last,  her  face  blossoming 
into  the  one  above,  "Now,  Ennie,  my  fairies." 

This  was  a  merry,  witching  song,  a  favorite  with 
Violet,  and  soon  its  ever-changeful,  dancing,  trill 
ing  melody  was  ringing  through  the  tree-tops. 

The  child  delighted,  clapped  her  hands  for  joy, 
her  blue  eyes  sparkling  with  pleasure  : 

"  O,  Ennie,  see  !  "  she  cried,  suddenly,  pointing 
to  a  cluster  of  trees  near.  And  Yensie,  with  sur 
prise  amounting  almost  to  dismay,  saw  two  pairs 
of  bright  eyes,  belonging  to  two  manly  forms 
carelessly  leaning  against  a  tree  trunk,  regarding 
her  earnestly. 

She  started  to  her  feet,  dropping  child  and  book, 
and  bringing  down  the  dark  mass  of  curling  hair, 


92  YENSIE   WALTON. 

already  loosened  by  those  little  fingers,  about  her 
like  a  cloud. 

The  possessors  of  the  eyes,  one  pair  as  black  as 
night,  the  other  pair  of  that  indescribable  hue,  so 
like  to  Alice  Grey's,  that  Yensie  felt  herself  at 
once  drawn  toward  them,  approached. 

"Pray,  Miss  Walton,  pardon  us,"  said  Harry 
Campbell.  "  We  heard  your  singing  at  some  dis 
tance,  and  were  drawn  here  irresistibly.  Pray 
don't  go." 

The  young  girl  knew  not  what  to  do.  She  lifted 
her  hands  to  coil  her  hair,  and  the  fingers  touched 
the  flowers. 

"  Violet,  dear  child,  what  have  you  done  ?  "  she 
said  in  real  distress,  the  color  richly  dyeing  cheek 
and  brow  as  she  remembered  how  she  was  adorned. 
"  Where  are  my  hair-pins  ?  " 

"Somewhere,"  answered  the  tiny  witch,  quite 
definitely.  I'll  find  them.  I  was  only  making 
you  a  queen.  Sit  down,  and  I  will  make  it  all 
nice  again.  Oh,  please  don't  take  them  out !  You 
can't,  anyway  !  "  laughing  at  Yensie's  attempts  to 
undo  her  work ;  and  the  maiden  saw  it  was  useless. 

"  Let  me  introduce  you  to  my  friend,  Mr.  Gar- 
denell.  Perhaps  you  remember  me  ?  I  am  Harry 
Campbell,  whom  once  you  honored  by  supposing 
him  to  be  a  newly-imported  Englishman,"  said 
Harry,  evidently  relishing  the  girl's  distress,  by  110 
means  diminished  by  a  glance  into  his  roguish 
face. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  93 

"  We  are  the  intruders,  let  us  go  if  need  be,  but 
ilo  not  relinquish  your  charming  retreat,  Miss 
Walton,"  said  Herbert. 

"You  were  reading,"  he  continued,  lifting  the 
book  from  its  place  at  his  feet,  where  it  had  fallen. 
"  You  are  fond  of  good  company,  I  see,"  he  added, 
significantly,  as  the  book  falling  open  discovered  to 
him  a  Greek  Testament. 

The  quiet  ease  of  his  manner  did  much  towards 
restoring  Yensie  to  her  usual  composure. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  receiving  the  book  from  his 
hand,  "  but  this  is  stranger  company  ;  or  perhaps  I 
had  better  say  an  old  friend  in  a  new  dress.  I 
have  not  read  much,  however,  this  afternoon." 
And  hardly  knowing  what  else  to  do  she  relin 
quished  herself  to  the  little  hands  pulling  at  her 
dress,  and  took  her  old  seat. 

"  I  can't  find  the  hair-pins,"  whispered  Maude. 

Harry  had  been  remarking :  "  You  have  a 
pleasant  view  here,"  but  now,  hearing  Violet's 
loud  whisper,  he  turned  to  her : 

"  No  matter,  Puss,  the  hair  does  very  nicely 
without  them ;  don't  hunt  any  longer."  And 
stooping  he  opened  his  arms  to  her,  while  he  noted 
amusedly,  the  bright  blood  flush  again  the  face  of 
the  young  girl. 

"Little  witch,"  he  said,  when  Maude,  after  a 
searching  glance  into  his  face,  allowed  herself  to 
be  taken  up ;  "  little  witch,  didn't  you  know  it 
wasn't  at  all  proper  to  unfasten  ladies'  braids  and 


94  YENSIE   WALTON. 

dress    them    up    in    flowers   when   company   was 
coming  ?  " 

"But  I  didn't  know  yon  were  coming,"  said  the 
child,  innocently  lifting  her  great  eyes  to  his  face, 
"and  I  fink  Ennie  looks  just  lovely  in  them,  don't 
you?  "  as  if  she  feared  he  might  say  "no." 

"  Exceedingly  !  "  said  Harry  emphatically,  glanc 
ing  slyly  at  the  young  lady,  who  was  in  conversa 
tion  with  Herbert,  who  had  seated  himself  near 
her. 

"You  shall  dress  me  up  and  make  me  a  king; 
what  do  you  say  to  that  ?  Now  here's  my  hat," 
laying  it  in  her  lap,  and  lifting  his  uncovered  head 
to  the  refreshing  breeze  just  beginning  to  stir  the 
air.  Now,  dress  it  finely,  and  I  will  wear  it  home, 
see  if  I  don't." 

"  Oh,  will  you,  Mr.  —  what  did  you  say  your 
name  was  ?  "  —  asked  the  delighted  child. 

"Harry,"  he  answered.  "Now  'tis  but  fair  I 
should  ask  yours." 

"  My  name  is  Maude,  but  Ennie  calls  me  Violet, 
and  I  like  that  best,"  said  the  wee  thing,  decidedly. 

Yensie  and  Herbert  had  ceased  their  talk  and 
were  both  regarding  and  listening  to  her. 

"It  is  the  sweeter  name  of  the  two,"  said 
Harry,  carelessly.  "  I  always  loved  the  violet  with 
its  eye  of  blue,  like  yours.  You  are  well  named." 

"  Yes,  well  named !  "  said  Yensie,  so  bitterly 
that  both  young  men  turned  to  her  quickly,  as 
Maude  bounded  away  with  Harry's  hat.  Yensie 


YENSEE   WALTON.  95 


read  the  questien  in  Herbert's  eyes  and  answered 
it. 

"  No  sweeter  violet  ever  blossomed,  Mr.  Gar- 
denell,  but  it  only  lives  a  little  hour.  I've  seen 
them  so  early  in  the  spring-time  peeping  out  as  if 
to  cheer  our  hearts  at  prospect  of  a  winter  past, 
and  yet  when  summer  sun  set  in  they  all  were 
gone.  God  only  knows  what  spring-time  promise 
came  with  sweet  Maude  to  my  frozen  heart.  How 
can  I  meet  the  heat  and  glow  of  summer,  and  be 
content  with  its  gaudier  flowers,  when  she  is 
gone  ?  "  She  had  forgotten  her  hearers  now,  and 
tears  were  dropping  on  her  Testament. 

Instinctively,  the  two  gentlemen  glanced  at  the 
tiny,  fragile,  fairy-like  figure  flitting  in  and  out  be 
neath  the  trees.  Instinctively  they  felt  she  was 
right ;  and  each  in  the  pity  of  his  heart  longed  to 
comfort  her.  Yet  both  felt,  in  that  moment,  the 
helplessness  that  meets  us  all  when  facing  life's 
realities. 

Herbert  Gardenell  just  touched  the  Greek  Tes 
tament  still  in  her  lap,  and  whispered :  "  Jesus." 
Harry  lifted  his  hand  and  beckoned  to  the  little 
one. 

She  came  bounding  to  him,  her  cheeks  glowing 
from  the  exercise,  her  eyes  sparkling  with  delight. 

"Oh,  see  the  beauties,"  she  cried,  "won't  your 
hat  be  gay  ?  "  And  Yensie  looking  up  and  sharing 
her  pleasure,  smiled. 

"  Please    sing   again,   Miss   Walton,"   besought 


96  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Harry,  hat  cocked  upon  the  back  part  of  his  head 
to  accommodate  the  little  lady  adorning  it.  Yen- 
sie  could  but  laugh  as  she  looked  at  him. 

"  Puss,  I  declare,  if  that  doesn't  feel  exactly  as 
Miss  Grant's  bonnet  looks.  Don't  make  me  too 
pretty,  now,  it  might  be  dangerous,"  with  such  a 
comical  grimace.  "  Miss  Walton,  do  sing,  please." 

Herbert's  eyes  certainly  seconded  his  friend's 
petition,  and  Miss  Violet  cried : 

"  My  fairy  again ;  oh,  please  do,  Ennie."  And 
thus  constrained,  the  maiden  yielded. 

"  A  thousand  thanks,  Miss  Ennie,  said  Harry,  as 
she  ended.  "  Now,  Puss,  you  must  kiss  me,  as 
any  lady  should  her  knight-errant  willing  to  wear 
her  colors  valiantly." 

Violet  has  not  given  me  one  flower,"  said  Her 
bert,  smiling. 

"  You  are  a  very  big  man,"  said  the  little  girl, 
timidly,  standing  before  him,  as  if  not  wishing  to 
offend  him,  yet  fearing  to  offer  him  the  few  flowers 
she  had  left. 

"  Hear  !  hear  !  "  laughed  Harry.  "  She  chooses 
companions  nearer  her  size.  I  always  told  you, 
Gardenell,  your  six  feet  would  be  at  disadvantage 
in  some  places.  Don't  be  afraid,  Violet,  I'll  guar 
antee  he  shan't  eat  you." 

But  Violet  had  evidently  no  such  fears.  She 
had  yielded  both  her  hands  to  the  young  man,  and 
stood  looking  into  his  face  with  a  gravity  that 
brought  a  smile  to  his  lips. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  97 

"  It's  no  matter  if  you  are  big,"  she  said,  as  if 
fearing  Harry's  words  had  hurt  his  feelings;  "  your 
heart  can  be  all  the  bigger,  can't  it?  Your  eyes 
don't  laugh  like  Mr.  Harry's,  but  they  rest  me. 
Perhaps  your  heart  laughs,  it  must  if  you  love 
Jesus  —  do  you  ?  " 

Herbert  bent  his  great  head  until  his  lips  swept 
her  cheek,  as  he  said  :  "  Yes." 

"  And  Ennie  ?  "  as  if  that,  too,  were  part  of  re 
ligion. 

This  was  not  so  easy  to  answer,  but  she  did  not 
notice  that  he  avoided  it. 

All  that  love  Jesus  love  each  other,"  she  said ; 
"don't  they,  Mr. " 

"  Herbert,"  put  in  Harry. 

"  Herbert  ?  "  added  the  child.  "  If  I  was  very 
tired,"  she  went  on,  "and  you  took  me  in  your 
great  arms,  and  carried  me,  it  would  not  make  you 
tired,  would  it  ?  It  must  be  nice  to  be  strong,  be 
cause  you  can  help  those  who  are  weak." 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  and  nice  to  be  weak,  and 
give  somebody  strong  the  pleasure  of  carrying  us." 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  I  didn't  think  of  that.  I'm  glad  you 
told  me.  Jesus  carries  the  lambs  in  his  bosom, 
Ennie  says,  and  he  came  and  told  me  so  himself 
the  other  night,"  —  this  in  a  whisper  —  "  and  I'm 
going  to  him  soon,"  Then  coming  back  suddenly 
to  the  point  from  which  she  started  :  "  Would  you 
like  to  have  me  put  these  flowers  in  your  button 
hole  ?  " 


98  YENSEB   WALTON. 

Having  been  answered  in  an  affirmative,  she 
busied  herself  in  arranging  them,  talking  to  him 
the  while. 

"  I  don't  know  but  they  will  look  quite  as  well 
as  a  hatful  for  a  gentleman  as  big  and  grave  as 
you  are ;  but  I'd  get  you  more  if  I  wasn't  so  tired. 
You  shall  have  most  next  time.  Ennie,"  ad 
dressing  her  cousin,  "  please  give  me  a  pin  to  fasten 
these  with." 

Yensie  handed  her  the  desired  article : 

"You  must  hurry,  Violet,"  she  said.  "I  see 
your  mother  looking  for  us.  It  must  be  working 
time  again." 

A  minute  after,  lifting  her  face  gravely,  first  for 
Herbert's  kiss,  and  then  for  Harry's,  the  little  one 
followed  her  cousin  homewards,  and  the  two  young 
men  stood  where  they  left  them  gazing  after. 

"A  very  uncommon  child,"  said  Herbert,  mus 
ing. 

"  And  a  not  very  common  young  lady,"  said 
Harry,  dryly.  "  I  say,  Gard,  did  you  ever  see  any 
one  exactly  like  her  before  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  Herbert,  with  a  quiet  smile  5 
"I  have  often  remarked  that  no  two  persons  are 
ever  exactly  alike." 

"  Bless  us,  how  smart  we  are !  You  know  I 
didn't  mean  that.  She's  got  spunk,  that  girl,  when 
her  blood's  up.  Did  you  notice  the  roses  when  I 
referred  to  our  first  meeting?  I  never  told  you 
about  that,  Gard  —  forgot  it  myself —  until  a  few 


TENSIE  WALTON.  99 

days  since,  while  studying  up  where  I  had  seen  her 
before."  And  here  followed  a  laughable  account 
of  the  incident  with  which  our  readers  are  ac 
quainted. 

"  I  tell  you,  but  she  was  curious  looking,"  said 
Harry.  "  A  large  head  it  looked  to  be ;  and  all 
thorned  with  small  knots  of  curls,  a  wee  face,  with 
the  biggest  eyes,  and  such  a  dress  —  made  after 
the  style  of  Madam  Eve's  I  fancy  —  and  no  shoes 
or  stockings.  I  glanced  at  her.  foot  this  afternoon 
—  so  slender,  and  small,  and  dainty  —  protruding 
from  under  her  dress.  I  wonder  it  isn't  a  flat-fish 
after  all  the  climbing  it  did,  bare,  over  these  rocks 
and  hills." 

"  Ever  after  that  morning,"  continued  Harry, 
"  she  avoided  me,  though  I  often  fell  in  her  way, 
and  tried  to  be  entertaining.  Just  whenever  I 
began  to  feel  I  was  getting  some  footing  with  her 
she  would  say  some  queer  thing  and  set  me  off 
laughing ;  and  then,  of  course,  my  lady  would 
order  me  home,  as  if  all  the  wild  land  in  Wynn 
belonged  to  her.  I  haven't  seen  her  these  two 
years,  and  had  no  idea  she  was  so  metamorphosed, 
though  she  showed  signs  of  civilization  when  I 
was  here  last ;  that  is,  in  appearance,  not  particu 
larly  in  her  reception  of  me.  I  wonder  if  she'a 
handsome  ;  what  do  you  say,  Gard  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  You  are  quite  sure  ?  " 

"  Yes." 


100  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ?  " 

Everything  about  her,  particularly  the  soul  in 
her  face." 

'"  The  soul  in  her  face,"  mused  Harry.  " "  Per 
haps,  now,  I'm  no  judge  of  that.  Is  that  what 
makes  her  eyes  look  so  —  well  —  so  —  bosh,  how 
weak  words  are,  so  that  a  fellow  wishes  he  was 
Violet,  a  book,  most  anything,  just  to  have  her 
look  at  him  once." 

Herbert  laughed.  "  Are  you  lost,  my  friend  ?  " 
he  queried. 

"  No ;  but,  bless  me,  I'm  puzzled.  Can't  get  her 
down  to  measuring  line  arid  figures.  There  are 
her  eyes,  no  mistake,  they  are  glorious ;  mouth  — 
IFell,  let's  see,  is  it  large  or  not,  Gard ;  I'll  be 
hanged  if  I  know  ?  I  fancied  it  was,  until  she 
smiled.  Her  complexion  is  delicious;  her  nose  — 
well,  not  a  Roman,  neither  Grecian,  exactly,  is  it  ? 
What  should  you  call  it,  Gard?  " 

"  Nonsense  !  "  said  Herbert,  testily. 

"  Mercy,  he  kicks  a  little  !  Gard,  I  begin  to 
have  serious  fears  for  you." 

"  Harry  behave  yourself  for  once,"  begged  his 
friend.  "You  can't  take  a  face  like  that  to  pieces 
and  dissect  it." 

"  Just  the  conclusion  I  was  coming  to,  myself. 
You're  a  sensible  fellow,  Gard ;  I  admire  you.  I 
was  just  thinking  it  would  hardly  do  to  measure 
her  by  Miss  Simpson's  standard.  Mouth  one  inch , 
nose,  only  a  half-inch ;  eyes,  each  one-quarter ;  ten 


YENSEE  WALTON.  101 

frizzles  exactly,  on  each  side  of  the  face ;  a  rat- 
tail  of  hair  which  grew  on  native  soil;  two  or 
three  imported  switches ;  roses  and  lilies  to  order, 
bust  after  the  latest  importations  from  Paris,  etc., 
etc.,"  laughed  the  rogue.  "  I  say,  Gard." 

"What  now?"  inquired  his  friend. 

"I  wish  I  was  an  artist.  I'd  do  up  Violet's 
queen  in  first  style,  and  make  you  a  present  of  it 
to  hang  on  the  parsonage  study-wall,  as  an  inspira 
tion." 

"  Harry,  you  are  a  sad  fellow,"  said  Herbert, 
smiling  in  spite  of  himself. 

"I  knew  that  long  since,"  laughed  Harry,  "but 
I  say,  Gard,  there  she  is  looking  back  from  the 
porch,",  and  Harry  kissed  his  hand  to  her. 

Turning  as  she  reached  the  porch,  Yecsie  had, 
indeed,  discovered  what  she  did  not  suppose,  that 
the  young  men  stood  where  she  left  them  ;  and 
blushing  crimson  at  Harry's  salute,  she  shut  the 
door  emphatically. 

"  You  are  a  bold  boy,  Hany,"  said  Herbert.  "  I 
wovJd  hardly  like  to  do  that  yet.  I  doubt  much  if 
you  are  any  better  pleased  with  that  little  girl's  ap 
pearance  than  1  am." 

"  Pleased  sounds  quite  tame  sometimes,"  laughed 
Harry.  "Bewitched  is  the  word.  I  think  I  should 
not  have  hesitated  this  afternoon  to  answer  satis 
factorily  to  the  second  article  in  Violet's  creed. 
But  I  dared  to  throw  her  a  kiss,  Gard,  long  ago, 
and  when  I  wouldn't  have  cared  as  much  to  follow 


102  YENSIB  WALTON. 

it  by  an  actual  lip-pressure.  That  was  when  I  was 
here  last.  I  was  feeling  quite  a  man  then,  and  re 
garded  her  as  only  a  child,  and  felt  almost  angry 
when  I  came  upon  her  suddenly,  studying  beneath 
a  tree,  to  have  her  get  up  and  run  off  as  if  I  were 
a  robber.  The  way  she  sprang  over  the  rocks  and 
bushes,  until  she  reached  the  top  of  the  hill,  was 
curious,  and  graceful  too.  I  always  loved  beauty, 
and  the  lightness  and  ease  of  her  movements 
charmed  me  into  forgetfuluess  of  my  chagrin  ;  and 
when  her  flushed  face  looked  back  at  me,  I  took 
off  my  hat,  and  wafted  her  a  kiss.  Oh,  how  her 
eyes  did  flash ;  and  guess  how  she  received  it  ? 
She  stooped  and  lifting  a  stone,  hurled  it  at  my 
head.  Where  was  the  soul  in  her  face,  then,  I 
wonder?  She  is  a  good  shot,  and  I  only  saved  my 
skull  by  dodging.  Then  1  sent  her  half-a-dozen 
more  kisses,  just  to  see  her  blaze.  I  have  no  doubt 
as  to  her  beauty  when  she's  mad.  I  tell  you  she's 
glorious,  but  at  other  times  —  now,  compare  her  to 
Miss  Montague,  my  aunt  to  be." 

You  are  unjust,  Harry,"  said  his  friend,  warmly, 
not  noticing  the  youth's  sly  smile.  "  This  girl 
cannot  be  more  than  fifteen  or  sixteen  years  old. 
Give  her  ten  years  more,  and  she  will  have  few 
equals,  no  superiors.  Not  that  she  will  ever  be 
of  that  milk-and-water  beauty  belonging  to  many. 
Forbid  she  should.  Royal,  whole-souled  women 
are  too  rare  not  to  be  prized.  But  isn't  it  time  for 


YENSIE  WALTON. 


103 


us  to  turn  homeward?     The  ladies  will   be  wor 
rying  over  your  protracted  absence." 

As  they  pursue  their  way  back  to  the  mansion 
house,  let  me  describe  them  to  you,  reader,  and 
make  you  better  acquainted. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  Geenteel  in  personage, 
Conduct  and  equipage, 
Noble  by  heritage 

Generous  and  free." 

"  There  is  to  whom  all  things  are  easy  :  his  mind  as  a  master- 
key, 

Can  open,  with  intuitive  address,  the  treasures  of  art  and 
science." 

— TUPPER. 

^ARRY  CAMPBELL,  when  not  beside  his 
friend,  was  considered  tall,  being  some 
five  feet  nine  or  ten  inches  in  height. 
He  had  a  slight,  well-made  figure,  and  an  easy 
carelessness  of  dress  and  manner,  which  was  the 
very  embodiment  of  graceful  elegance,  and  which 
made  him  at  the  same  time  the  delight  of  the 
ladies,  and  envy  of  the  gentlemen. 
104 


YEKSIE   WALTON.  105 

His  well-formed  head  was  covered  with  a  mass 
of  closely-curling  black  hair ;  his  face  dark,  hand 
some,  perfect  and  classical  in  every  outline,  was 
lighted  by  a  pair  of  roguish,  laughing,  mischief- 
making  eyes,  continually  seeking  new  focd  for 
merriment. 

He  had  a  tender,  lo/ing,  sympathetic  heart, 
which  often  quite  ran  away  with  his  head ;  a  sweet, 
full  musical  voice  :  youth,  wealth,  position,  culture, 
and  was  at  the  same  time  the  pride,  delight  and 
anxiety  of  his  widowed  mother,  she  having  lav 
ished  upon  him  everything  that  wealth  and  love 
could  devise,  lived  in  continual  dread  that  his 
strange,  outspoken,  democratic  notions  would  lead 
him  into  some  misalliance ;  or  his  hasty,  ardent 
temperament  bring  him  into  harm. 

Mrs.  Campbell  had  hailed  with  delight  her  son's 
friendship  for  Gardenell,  who  had  great  power 
over  him.  For  though  Herbert  was  poor,  he  was 
well-bred  and  refined  ;  and  she  knew  his  every  in 
fluence  went  toward  strengthening  the  good  within 
her  wayward  boy. 

Harry  had  inherited  his  father's  handsome  face, 
but  not  his  careful  evenly-balanced  mind.  And 
the  wee  woman,  used  to  leaning  on  her  husband's 
judgment,  was  in  continual  trouble  as  to  which 
way  she  had  better  pursue  for  herself  and  her  chil 
dren.  She  had  but  two  children,  Harry  and  Nettie, 
the  latter  inheriting  more  of  her  father's  force,  with 
her  mother's  pleasant,  though  not  beautiful  face. 


106  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Mr.  Robinson,  the  owner  of  the  mansion  house, 
was  Mrs.  Campbell's  only  brother,  and  some  years 
her  senior.  A  bachelor,  he  divided  his  winters 
between  his  Southern  plantation  and  his  sister's 
New  York  residence ;  but  for  many  years  had  pre 
ferred  Wynn  as  a  summer  resort. 

As  Mr.  Robinson  had  shown  no  intention  of 
marriage,  Harry  was  regarded  as  next  owner  of 
the  mansion  house  and  plantation,  and  had  done 
much  as  he  pleased  with  his  uncle's  property. 
More  than  this,  he  had  swayed  the  good  gentleman 
himself,  as  well  as  his  possessions.  For  though 
Winthrop  Robinson  differed  very  widely  from  his 
nephew  in  personal  appearance,  he  possessed  much 
the  same  easy-going,  self-indulgent  temperament. 

Now,  though  rumor  said  Mr.  Robinson  was 
about  to  take  a  wife,  and  he  did  not  contradict  the 
report,  Harry's  influence  was  unabated.  And 
when  he  brought  Herbert  Gardenell  to  Wynn  to 
spend  his  vacation,  nobody  thought  it  necessary  to 
ask  any  questions.  As  Mr.  Campbell's  friend,  he 
was  well  received,  and  soon  won  a  place  for  him 
self  by  his  genial  manners  and  fine  abilities. 

Herbert  Gardenell  was  a  broad  giant  of  a  fellow, 
but  not  uncouth.  His  colossal  head  had  hardly 
been  supported  gracefully  by  shoulders  less  broad, 
and  nothing  short  of  his  six  feet  had  well  become 
such  massive  shoulders.  He  was  a  large,  noble- 
looking,  well-proportioned  man,  a  very  prince  in 
form  and  bearing,  so  that  Harry  often  declared  he 
felt  like  taking  off  his  hat  to  him. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  107 

Not  as  handsome  a  man,  strictly  speaking,  as  his 
friend,  yet  to  see  him  once  was  to  remember  him 
forever.  Power  was  written  on  every  lineament. 
In  hours  of  thoughtfulness  his  face  was  marked  by 
great  gravity;  and  with  its  frowning  brows  and 
compressed  lips  might  well  frighten  one  as  timid 
as  wee  Maude.  But  under  the  influence  of  his 
rare  smile  it  became  sweet  and  tender  as  a  woman's. 

He  had  unusual  intellectual  gifts,  and  power  to 
couch  even  old,  trite  truths  in  such  attractive 
forms  as  to  give  them  the  appearance  and  force  of 
fresh  acquaintances.  Add  to  this  the  fact  of  a 
mind  lofty,  far-reaching,  gigantic  in  its  propor 
tions;  wide,  world-embracing  in  its  scope,  always 
pressing  to  new  realms  of  thought,  while  rever 
encing  time-tested  truths,  and  securely  anchored  to 
the  old,  old  doctrines,  forever  new  in  their  power 
to  hold  and  solidify  the  manhood  of  the  world, 
and  you  have  some  little  conception  of  him. 

Yes,  he  believed  the  doctrines  of  human  help 
lessness  and  Almighty  help ;  of  human  sinfulness 
and  sinless  Christ ;  of  humanity  clothing  Divinity ; 
immortality  walking  in  mortal  investiture ;  the 
doctrine  of  God-man  Saviour — perfect  God,  else 
he  had  failed  to  reach  an  awful  need  and  touch 
outraged  divinity;  perfect  man,  or  he  had  failed 
as  well  to  reach  the  central  forces  of  our  being, 
"  touched  by  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities."  The 
old,  old  blessed  doctrines  that  have  never  failed  to 
make  man  more  manly,  since  angel-singing  her- 


108  YENSIE   WALTON. 

aided  Bethlehem's  babe,  the  world's  Saviour,  the 
son  of  Mary  and  the  Son  of  God ! 

Herbert  had  rare  gifts  fitting  him  for  public 
speaking.  His  noble  bearing,  his  clear,  ringing 
voice,  impassioned  manner,  deep  earnestness,  felic 
ity  and  comprehensiveness  of  expression,  and  won 
derful  adaptation  that  could  make  itself  under 
stood  by  the  meanest  intellect ;  while  it  swayed 
and  carried  captive  the  broadest  intelligence  and 
culture. 

That  eye  so  calm,  so  clear,  so  deep,  that  "  rested  " 
little  Violet,,  could  flash  and  fire,  and  burn,  under 
the  power  of  some  noble  thought ;  could  sparkle 
amid  the  play  of  wit  —  for  Herbert  did  not  despise 
merr}r-making.  It  is  rarely  that  we  find  a  truly 
gifted  man  that  does.  Nature  seldom  wrongs  her 
self  by  such  offensive  specimens  of  her  handiwork. 
Men  of  the  highest  capacity  are  men  of  rounded, 
finished  natures  —  broad  every  way  —  that  dare 
appreciate,  yea,  even  perpetrate  a  joke. 

"  A  jollier  fellow  "  —  to  use  his  fellow-students' 
phrase  — "  could  not  be  found  than  Gardenell." 
Yet  he  was  true  to  himself,  true  to  God  ;  and  they 
all  knew  the  minute  sin  was  introduced,  or  mean, 
low  jesting,  Gardenell's  fun  was  at  an  end. 

Indeed,  Herbert  Gardenell  was  one  of  God's 
royal  men,  who  walked  above  his  fellows.  Uncon 
sciously,  to  be  sure,  without  asserting  superiority ; 
but  just  as  truly  as  if,  while  made  of  the  clay  of 
commonality,  he  bore  the  seal  of  divinity,  stamped 


YENSIE  WALTON.  109 

clearly,  indelibly  upon  him  —  God's  name  written 
on  his  forehead. 

Have  you  ever  seen  such  a  man,  reader  ?  Mark 
him  well.  God  walks  with  him,  and  his  fellow- 
men  may  safely  dwell  beneath  his  shadow. 

Herbert  was  poor.  His  father  was  an  old,  par 
tially  broken-down  clergyman,  who  had  served  his 
time  and  generation  well ;  his  mother  one  of  the 
few  women  who  deserve  that  holy  name.  They 
had  a  small  annuity,  their  only  support,  which  by 
the  strictest  economy  was  sufficient  for  their  mod? 
est  needs. 

Their  boy  had  not  only  early  developed  uncom 
mon  talents ;  but  an  earnest  desire  to  consecrate 
them  to  his  father's  calling ;  and  undertook  that 
task  which  gives  to  our  ministry  so  many  broken 
men  before  their  prime,  viz :  to  educate  himself,  and 
pay  his  college  tuition,  by  money  earned  out  of 
school  hours. 

He  had  started  with  a  trunk  containing  his  small 
stock  of  clothes,  his  Bible,  and  the  little  hoardings 
of  many  months.  These,  with  his  parents'  bless 
ing,  a  strong,  well-knit  frame  and  determined  pur 
pose,  were  his  whole  possession  ;  but  he  felt,  with 
God's  blessing,  they  would  be  enough. 

Thus  far  he  had  been  able  to  keep  up  bravely  ; 
but  incessant  labor,  mental  and  physical,  were 
making  inroads  on  his  stalwart  frame,  and  Harry 
interfered. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

'He  basely  injures  friendship's  sacred  name, 
Who  reckons  not  himself  and  friend  the  same." 

was  wonderful,  the  love  existing  between 
these  two  young  men,  so  unlike  in  almost 
every  respect.  In  their  first  hour  of 
meeting  Harry  acknowledged  Herbert's  superiority, 
bowed  to  his  intellect,  and  took  him  into  the 
depths  of  his  heart;  and  his  love  had  but  in 
creased  with  every  day  since. 

Nothing  else  could  so  anger  Campbell  as  a  word 
against  his  friend.  His  easy  good-nature  gave 
way  instantly  to  uncontrollable  anger  at  the  bare 
hint  of  any  evil  in  him;  which  two  or  three  of 
his  college  chums  had  found  to  their  sorrow. 

Herbert,  might   speak  to  him  freely  of  faults 
110 


YENSIE  WALTON".  Ill 

another  had  not  been  allowed  to  mention.  He 
had  faith  in  Herbert  —  faith  in  his  religion.  And 
perhaps  this  was  because  Herbert  treated  him  as 
no  other  did,  continually  putting  him  upon  his 
manhood,  expecting  him  to  overcome,  and  deny 
himself,  where  it  was  best,  if  not  absolutely  neces 
sary ;  talked  "  upright,  downright  religion  at  him," 
as  he  sometimes  said,  "  without  any  cant  in  it." 

Harry  had  seen  his  friend,  year  by  year,  work 
steadily  on  in  the  midst  of  difficulties  and  pull- 
backs,  taking  the  lead  of  his  class  in  spite  of  hours 
of  drudgery  which  should  have  been  spent  in  study 
or  recreation.  He  had  made  repeated  efforts  to 
have  it  otherwise,  but  to  no  purpose. 

"  I  say,  Gard,  I  won't  have  it,"  Harry  said  that 
last  week  at  school.  They  were  room-mates. 

"Won't  have  what,  Harry?"  inquired  the  young 
man,  shutting  his  book  and  giving  his  friend  his 
undivided  attention. 

"  Won't  see  you  killing  yourself  this  way. 
You're  a  giant,  I  know  you  are,  or  you'd  have 
been  under  before  this ;  working  yourself  as  you'd 
be  ashamed  to  work  a  horse.  I  declare  it's  too 
bad !  I  did  think  you  had  a  conscience ;  I've 
heard  you  talk  as  if  you  had.  I  wonder  if  that 
old  book  you  prize  so  much  says  anything  about  a 
man's  body  being  God's,  or  is  it  all  soul,  that  you 
are  trying  to  sink  your  body  as  fast  as  you  can?" 
Arid  Harry  stopped  in  his  rapid  walk  and  looked 
into  Herbert's  face  as  he  added :  "  I  have  thought 


112  YENSIE  WALTON. 

perhaps  he  gave  you  that  gigantic  build  because  of 
tough  work  he  had  ahead  for  you  to  do  ;  but  I 
could  swear  you  were  doing  your  best  to  cheat  him 
out  of  it  if  he  did,  the  way  you've  used  yourself 
up  this  last  six  months.  I'm  downright  mad  at  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Herbert,  thoughtfully. 

Harry  laughed  uproariously ;  Herbert  looking 
on  amused  at  his  friend's  sudden  mirth,  yet  appar 
ently  unconscious  of  its  source. 

"  Well,  Harry,  what  now  ?  "  he  asked,  when  the 
young  man  sobered.  Which  simple  question  had 
the  effect  of  starting  Harry  off  again. 

*'  I  say,  Gard,  but  you're  an  original.  What  on 
earth  did  you  thank  me  for  —  a  scolding  ?  " 

"  For  the  truth,  to  be  sure.  I  really  had  never 
thought  of  the  subject  in  this  light  before.  I  had 
forgotten  that  God  had  given  me  a  body  to  take 
care  of.  I  thank  you,"  said  the  young  man,  heartily. 

"  Then  I  can  impart  a  little  wisdom  to  a  half- 
fledged  minister  ?  Thank  you,  my  friend.  I  feel 
proud  of  myself ;  I  begin  to  realize  the  '  might 
have  been  '  within  me.  Gard,  old  boy,  I  haven't 
the  ninety-ninth  part  of  a  chance  to  bless  mankind 
personally,  why  not  give  me  this  second-hand  op 
portunity  of  being  useful.  Only  for  the  sake  of 
philanthropy,  my  boy,  without  taking  yourself  into 
the  bargain  at  all;  but  for  the  love  you  hold  for 
your  sinner-friend,  anxious  to  do  some  good  in  this 
world,  and  win  some  credit  for  another. 

"  Now,  here  I  am,  done  school,  thank  goodness, 


YENSIE   WALTON.  113 

with  the  smell  of  good  times  and  foreign  travel 
ahead.  I  am  grateful,  exceedingly  so,  that  my 
school  course  is  ended.  Isn't  it  only  becoming 
that  I  should  show  my  gratitude  by  some  thank- 
offering  to  one  who,  on  my  behalf  and  that  of  '  a 
world  lying  in  wickedness,'  (you  see  I  can  talk 
prayer-meeting)  is  willing  to  immolate  himself  for 
two  or  three  years  more  on  the  altar  of  theology. 
Gard,  I  feel  good ;  I  begin  to  have  faith  that  my 
eloquence  is  irresistible.  Admit  that  I  have  put 
this  thing  in  its  right  light  and  that  you  are  con 
vinced  ?  " 

"I  am  ready  to  admit  myself  convinced  that 
you  are  the  best  fellow  that  ever  lived,"  said  Her 
bert,  warmly;  "but,  Harry"  — 

"  No  buts  about  it,  my  dear  fellow,"  interrupted 
Harry,  "don't  you  suppose  I've  been  over  the 
ground  often  enough  to  know  every  inch  of  it? 
Bless  you  !  I  don't  want  you  to  accept  a  charity, 
I  scorn  the  idea.  I  don't  intend  to  give  you  this 
money  ;  catch  me  at  it !  I  am  simply  going  to 
make  an  investment  and  share  dividends.  I'm  to 
foot  the  school  bills,  understand,  (a  good  way  to 
use  up  spare  money  that  troubles  me  )  you're  to 
do  the  preaching.  And  if  you'll  promise  me  a  half 
of  the  returns  as  my  share,  to  be  charged  against 
the  debit  side  of  my  account  in  that  book  over 
yonder  that  you  tell  me  about,  I'll  call  it  more 
than  square." 

"  Harry,  Harry,  listen  to  me.     I  don't  expect 


114  YENSIE   WALTON. 

the  results  of  my  preaching  could  ever  pay  my 
own  debts  or  anybody's  else.  But,  dear  boy,  if 
you  will  lend  me  this  sum  until  I  get  in  a  way  to 
repay  you,  I  will  be  obliged  to  you.  I  can't  re 
ceive  it  on  any  other  grounds." 

"  Can't !  "  growled  Harry.  "  Gard,  I'm  disap 
pointed- in  you.  Thought  you'd  be  willing  to  give 
a  fellow  a  lift,  even  at  the  expense  of  your  own 
particular  feelings,  which  in  this  particular  case 
are  particularly  disagreeable  and  out  of  place. 
Not  a  word,  not  a  word,"  —  checking  Herbert, 
who  was  about  to  speak — "I  see  you  are  deter 
mined,  obstinate  as  a  mule;  bound  not  to  give  a 
poor  sinner  the  chance  of  laying  up  a  dollar  for 
another  world.  Well,  I  suppose  that's  a  strange 
way  you  have  of  practicing  the  Golden  Rule. 
Honor  bright,  if  you  were  able  and  I  not  able  to 
pay  for  my  schooling,  I'd  give  you  the  chance,  if 
only  to  make  you  feel  well ;  and  if  I  believed  in 
the  '  Whatsoever '  of  that  old  rule,  as  you  profess 
to,  I'd  be  conscientiously  bound  to.  But  then,  if 
those  are  your  only  conditions  I'll  be  obliged  to 
accept  them." 

Herbert's  face  was  a  study.  His  friend  had  put 
the  thing  quite  differently  from  what  he  had  ex 
pected. 

"  Harry,  you'd  feel  better  in  my  place,  to  pay  it 
again,  if  ever  able,  wouldn't  you  ?  " 

Harry  laughed. 

"  Don't  look  so  melancholy,  my  friend  !     Yes,  I 


YENSIE  WALTON.  115 

believe  I  should  feel  better,  and  I  suppose  we  must 
make  the  rule  fit  that,  must  we  ?  '  Whatsoever  ye 
would  that  men  should '  —  I  give  up,  Gard,  feel 
won't  work  well  in  there.  I'm  a  poor  theologian, 
after  all.  What  are  you  thinking  of !  "  and  Harry 
pursed  his  brows  and  compressed  his  lips  in  exact 
imitation  of  his  friend. 

"  Of  you,"  answered  Herbert,  simply. 

"  And  what,  pray,  of  me  ?  " 

"  That  if  grace  had  endowed  you  as  richly  as 
Nature,  you  would  walk  a  king  among  men,"  said 
Gardenell. 

"  No  preaching,"  cried  Harry,  "  this  is  a  business 
meeting.  Bless  me,  where  wouldn't  that  fellow 
drag  in  religion  ?  Talk  about  a  call  to  preach ! 
The  most  skeptical  would  be  convinced  on  that 
point  concerning  you,  if  but  he  might  enjoy  your 
society  for  a  day.  I  say,  Gard,  if  you  ever  fall  in 
love  —  which  is  doubtful  —  be  careful  how  you 
fling  St.  Paul  at  the  young  lady,  or  you'll  lose  her. 
Now,  where  were  we  ?  Oh,  I  remember.  You've 
agreed  to  give  up  that  fancy  wood- work  that  you've 
attended  to  lately  for  Mrs.  Tenedy  at  starva 
tion  a  cord,  and  devote  the  force  thus  saved  to 
theology,  for  the  express  benefit  of  your  Jonathan. 
If  this  is  settled  satisfactorily,  I  beg  to  go  on  to 
the  consideration  of  another  item." 

"  With  the  express  understanding  that  what  I 
shall  borrow  from  you,  is  to  be  repaid  at  the  first 
opportunity,"  interrupted  Herbert. 


116  YENSIE  WALTON. 

"  My  dear  sir ;  certainly,  certainly,"  replied 
Harry,  with  a  comical  grimace.  "  With  the  ex 
press  understanding  that  I  shall  feel  very  much 
obliged  to  you  if  you  fall  down  and  forget  it ;  and 
promise,  if  you  die  prematurely,  not  to  call  on  your 
widow  for  settlement.  Now,  to  that  other  small 
affair;  and  I  assure  you  in  this  my  will  shall  be 
law,  without  a  single  objection  or  modification.  I 
wish  you  to  prepare  yourself  to  spend  vacation 
with  me  at  Wynn,  at  my  Uncle  Winthrop's  resi 
dence.  Not  a  word,  sir,"  peremptorily,  to  Herbert, 
about  to  speak.  "  I  know  every  objection  you  can 
raise.  Your  father  and  mother  can  as  well  spare 
you  to  fish,  hunt,  and  enjoy  yourself  generally,  as 
they  could  to  work  and  kill  yourself.  Write  to 
them  at  once  and  tell  them  you  have  fallen  in  with 
a  small  chap,  who  especially  needs  consoling,  amus 
ing,  instructing — anything,  in  short,  but  who  can 
not  get  along  without  you,  and  you  find  yourself 
conscientiously  bound  to  serve  him." 

"  Really,  I'd  like  to  go  first-rate,"  said  Herbert, 
musingly.  "  It  would  be  pleasant  to  have  a  regu 
lar  rest,  but "  — 

"  I  thought  I  told  you  once  that  '  buts '  were 
ruled  out  of  this  meeting,  as  they  should  be,"  in 
terrupted  Harry ;  but  his  friend  was  smiling,  un 
conscious  of  what  he  had  said. 

"  I've  hit  it,"  he  cried,  with  much  of  Campbell's 
enthusiasm.  I  can  run  home  a  few  days  and  see 
father  and  mother.  I  must  do  that ;  and  I  know 


YENSIE   WALTON.  117 

they'll  be  glad  to  have  me  go  with  you.  I  can  be 
back  time  enough  to  start  with  you  from  New 
York,  or  meet  you  at  Wynn  —  which  you  please." 

"  You  dutiful  child,  I  will  wait  for  you,''  laughed 
Harry,  "  if  only  to  encourage  you  in  honoring 
your  parents.  I  always  did  believe  in  rewarding 
virtue.  Pity  we  couldn't  transport  the  old  lady 
and  gentleman  bodily  to  Wynn  ;  they'd  enjoy  it,  I 
know.  I'm  half  a  mind  to  go  home  with  you  and 
see  the  blessed  old  couple.  I'm  really  curious  to 
behold  that  little  mother  of  whom  you  boast." 

"  Good,  come,  jolly ! "  said  Herbert,  enthusi 
astically  ;  and  so  it  was  settled. 

"  I  say,"  said  Herbert,  presently,  "  Harry,  you 
talk  as  if  school  business  was  ended  for  you,  for 
ever.  You  don't  mean  it,  surely.  It  is  a  shame 
to  waste  your  talents." 

"  Didn't  know  I  had  any  before,"  was  the  care 
less  response. 

"  Why,  don't  you  study  law  ?  "  continued  the 
young  man,  not  noticing  the  interruption. 

"  Law,  mercy  I  I'm  bad  enough  now.  You 
wouldn't  like  to  see  me  an  out-and-out  rascal, 
would  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  then,  medicine,"  said  Herbert,  smiling. 

"  A  doctor  !  "  —  the  tone  expressing  unbounded 
astonishment.  "You're  joking,  Gard;  you  really 
can't  mean  it !  I'd  rather  try  preaching —  be  bound 
if  I  wouldn't.  I  should  be  sure  to  administer 
poison  to  the  fellow  that  wanted  to  live,  and  wine 


118  YENSEE  WALTON. 

and  tonics  to  the  man  that'd  give  his  old  hat  for 
spunk  enough  to  hang  himself.  I've  no  thought 
of  taking  up  blue  pills  and  arsenic  yet  awhile,  if 
I  know  myself." 

"  But,  Harry,  an  idle  American  is  a  disgrace  to 
his  country,"  continued  Herbert. 

"  Then  I  must  disgrace  it,  at  least,  for  the  pres 
ent.  I  hate  work;  I  really  do.  Don't  look  so 
alarmed,  my  friend;  this  is  no  new  symptom  of 
disease.  I  am  not  what  is  vulgarly  called  lazy, 
only  indisposed  to  exert  myself.  And  as  there  is 
no  positive  need  just  now,  I  think  I'll  not  try.  If 
the  banks  all  fail,  and  my  wife  dies  and  leaves  me 
with  a  small  brood  to  maintain,  I'll  think  of  your 
propositions ;  until  then  give  me  a  rest  —  do.  And 
if  you  have  no  particular  text  on  hand  just  now, 
about  working  and  eating,  which  it  will  relieve 
you  perceptibly  to  repeat,  let  me  introduce  a  sub 
ject  far  more  interesting  to  myself,  at  least." 

"I  am  all  attention,"  said  Gardenell. 

"  Well  said,"  began  Harry.  "  You  see,  Gard," 
and  he  hesitated,  stammering  in  a  way  quite  un 
usual  with  him.  "I  think,  well  —  I'll  be  bound 
if  I  can  say  what  I  want  to.  I  ain't  a  bit  like  you, 
now ;  3*011  could  get  it  up  as  smooth  as  a  summer's 
sky.  But  old  fellow,  I  think  —  don't  you  think — 
or  rather,  I  don't  know  but  you'd  better  —  hang  it, 
if  I  don't  say  it  right  out  straight  and  plain,  I 
can't  say  it  at  all,  and  here  goes.  If  you  don't 
like  my  way  of  saying  it,  just  slick  it  up  and  say 


YENSIE   WALTON.  119 

It  over  to  yourself  and  imagine  it's  me  ;  but,  Gard^ 
that  best  suit  of  yours  is  kind  of  shabby." 

Herbert  Gardenell  was  listening  with  some 
amazement  to  this  disjointed  speech ;  and  now,  as 
it  suddenly  dawned  upon  him  what  his  friend  was 
aiming  at,  he  threw  his  head  back,  and  sent  peal 
after  peal  of  laughter  ringing  through  the  room. 

"  You'll  break  your  neck  some  of  these  days, 
throwing  your  head  back  in  that  style."  Harry 
said,  testily.  But  the  look  on  Herbert's  face  was 
irresistible,  and  the  youth  forgot  his  small  indigna 
tion  as  he  joined  in  his  friend's  mirth. 

"  Well,"  said  Campbell,  at  last,  as  laughter 
ended ;  the  two  sat  looking  at  each  other  through 
dewy  eyes. 

"  Well,  it's  a  great  thing  to  laugh  at,  after  all, 
that  shabby  rig  of  yours.  Now  don't  go  to  laugh 
ing  again,"  —  shaking  his  fist  at  Herbert,  who 
looked  very  much  like  a  second  indulgence  —  "I 
can't  fix  up  speeches  to  suit  occasions,  I  see  ;  but, 
in  plain  English,  I  want  you  to  have  another  before 
we  set  out  on  our  journey." 

"  Can't  afford  it,"  said  Herbert,  decidedly, 

"I  can,"  was  the  comprehensive  reply. 

But  Gardenell  shook  his  head  decisively. 

"  I  have  scruples  against  receiving  such  a  gift." 

"  Hang  your  scruples,"  muttered  Harry.  "  Con 
science  again,  I  suppose.  What  has  conscience  to 
do  with  clothes?  A  very  uncomfortable  com 
modity,  always  poking  in  where  it's  least  wanted." 


120  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  Harry,"  said  Herbert,  gravely,  "  how  often 
must  I  tell  you  that  '  hang  it '  is  an  expression  I 
do  not  admire." 

"  Conscience  again  !  Hang  —  there  I  go  again. 
Beg  your  pardon,  Gard,  but  you'll  have  to  make 
me  over  before  I'll  suit.  I'm  all  wrong  from  be 
ginning  to  end." 

Herbert's  hand  was  on  his  friend's  arm  now,  his 
eyes  looking  up  into  his,  that  tender,  winning 
smile  which  so  transformed  his  face,  hovering 
about  his  lips : 

"  You  try  so  hard  to  please  your  earthly  friend  ; 
a  better  motive  would  give  better  results,  Harry, 
my  brother." 

"  Don't  preach,"  interrupted  the  youth.  "  You 
take  advantage  of  my  weak  points,  Gard.  You 
know  I  hate  to  grieve  you,  but  plague  it  all,  I 
can't  be  just  like  you." 

"  I  don't  want  you  to  be,"  was  the  reply. 

"  There  it  is  again.  I  suppose  you'll  tell  me 
next,  you  want  me  to  be  better.  Gard,  you're  a 
precious  old  saint,  and  I'm  nothing  but  a  sinner, 
after  all ;  you'll  have  to  give  me  up,  I  know  you 
will.  I'm  sorry  you  tried  your  hand  first  on  such 
a  hard  specimen  ;  rather  discouraging  to  a  j'oung 
parson.  There,  don't  look  so  grave.  I'll  try  —  I 
promise  I  will.  I'll  do  anything,  only  don't 
preach.  You  blessed  old  fogy,  everybody  can't 
see  things  just  as  you  do." 

Harry  forgot   that  just  those  very  words,  "  old- 


YENSIE   WALTON.  121 

fogy,"  spoken  of  his  friend  by  another,  had  cost 
that  other  a  black  eye,  administered  by  himself,  oil 
the  spot.  He  went  on  now  : 

"  Gard,  if  you'll  please  give  me  your  reasons  for 
pronouncing  that  other  business  a  failure  ?  " 

Herbert  smiled.     "  I  don't  need  a  suit." 

"  Bosh !  "  was  the  expressive  reply. 

"  I  am  not  a  moneyed  gentleman ;  have  there 
fore  few  fears  of  being  called  stingy.  Then,  too, 
though  my  suit  is  not  like  yours,  immaculate,  it  is 
not  bad.  It  is  as  good  as  I  ever  had — as  good  as  I 
expect  for  years.  I  should  feel  very  much  as  if 
sailing  under  false  colors,  if  I  wore  much  better." 

"  That's  a  precious  piece  of  silliness,"  said 
Harry,  hotly.  "  Are  you  not  as  much  of  a  gentle 
man  as  anybody  can  be?  Why  shouldn't  you 
wear  as  fine  broadcloth  as  myself?  " 

"  Because  I  can't  pay  for  it,"  said  Herbert, 
quietly. 

"  Bosh !  "  again,  from  Harry.  "  You'd  like  to 
wear  as  fine  clothes  as  anybody." 

"  Admitted,"  replied  his  friend.  "  We  do  not 
take  issue  there." 

"  You  would  become  them  as  well,"  continued 
Harry. 

"  Undoubtedly,"  laughed  Herbert. 

"  Can  have  them  as  easily." 

"  If  I  ask  no  questions  as  to  who  settles  my  bills," 
put  in  Gardenell,  slyly.  "  Admit  Campbell,  you 
wouldn't  do  it  yourself.  You'd  rather  wear  clothes 


122  YENSIE   WALTON. 

bought  by  yourself,  even  if  coarser  than  those  the 
gift  of  another." 

"  Pride,"  quoth  Harry,  sententiously. 

"  But  worthy  pride,"  persisted  his  friend.  "  You 
know  you'll  admire  me  more  in  that  old  coat,  than 
done  up  in  the  best  of  broadcloth." 

"  I  know  no  such  thing,"  was  the  reply. 
"  There'll  be  lots  of  handsome  ladies  there,  Gard, 
and  I  want  you  to  make  a  good  impression." 

"  And  a  false  one,"  said  Herbert,  shaking  his 
head.  "I  can  make  a  good  one  in  my  old  suit, 
my  friend,  and  make  no  dumb  falsehoods  by  my 
apparel.  My  clothes  are  not  half  as  bad  as  you 
imagine,  and  if  you  cannot  take  me  in  them,  I 
must  give  up  my  visit." 

"That  you  won't,"  cried  Harry,  springing  up 
and  grasping  the  young  man's  hand.  "But  I  will 
admit,  that  while  you  are  the  queerest  fellow  I 
ever  came  across,  I  shouldn't  object  to  being  just 
as  queer  myself." 


CHAPTER  X. 


"  The  tost  sand  darkenelh  the  waves :  and  cleai  had  been  the 

pages  of  truth, 

Had  not  the  glosses  of  men  obscured  the  simplicity  of  faith." 

— Proverbial  Philosophy. 


'OW  does  thee  do?"  said  Alice  Grey,  in  a 
tone  and  manner  worthy  of  a  thorough 
bred  Quakeress,  as  a  bright  face  followed 
a  short,  light  rap  into  her  sunny  apartment. 

Alice  always  greeted  her  choice  friends  —  her 
inner-circle  of  acquaintances  —  in  this  style ;  and 
surely  no  one  could  have  better  become  the  far- 
famed  snowy  muslin  and  silver-grey  of  Quaker- 
hood.  Yensie  often  wondered  if  somewhere  there 
did  not  run  one  little  thread  of  Quaker  blood 
through  the  veins  of  her  friend,  especially  when 
she  found  her  arrayed  in  the  soft,  silvery  robes 
which  always  seemed  her  preference. 
123 


124  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  O,  Alice,"  Yensie  now  said,  "you  look  like  an 
angel!" 

"  Grey  angels !  O,  Yensie,  I  am  astonished. 
Don't  let  your  love  of  flattery  run  away  with  your 
good  sense,"  said  her  teacher,  smiling ;  for  she 
loved  sometimes  to  tease  a  little  her  impulsive 
pupil. 

"  You  know  I  wasn't  flattering  a  bit.  You  know 
just  what  I  do  mean,  too ;  but,  Alice  I  have  come 
to  you  for  help,"  Yensie  said,  soberly. 

Miss  Grey  was  all  attention  in  a  moment. 

"  What  troubles  you,  my  child  ?  " 

"I've  found  one  book  that  puzzles  me,  Alice. 
This  book,  that  I  used  to  think  old-fashioned  and 
out  of  date,"  the  girl  answered,  drawing  from  her 
pocket  a  small  Bible. 

"It  is  so  new  in  every  sense  —  starts  trains  of 
thought  altogether  unimagined  before,  and  leads 
me  I  know  not  where.  How  many,  many  times  I 
wish  myself  beside  you,  teacher,  so  wise  in  all 
things,  both  heavenly  and  earthly.  What  should 
I  do  without  you,  Alice  ? "  caressing  the  white 
hand  that  lay  upon  her  arm. 

"  Go  to  God,  I  trust,  my  child ;  perhaps  that  is 
the  reason  he  desires  to  remove  me.  Yensie,  the 
Bible  is  too  wonderful  for  any  merely  earthly  wis 
dom  to  fathom.  It  has  but  one  Interpreter;  he  is 
found  on  bended  knees." 

The  young  girl  sat  quietly,  still  caressing  uncon 
sciously  the  delicate  hand  of  her  teacher. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  12o 

"  I  did  ask  help,"  she  said  at  lengtfa,  slowly , 
"  but  perhaps  I  made  a  mistake  in  thinking  I  could 
solve  the  problems  met  here,  much  as  I  did  those 
in  arithmetic,  and  bring  them  to  as  exact  and  log 
ical  conclusions.  I  suppose,  when  God  says  a  thing 
is  right  we  must  believe  it  such,  though  seemingly 
contrary  to  our  sense  of  justice?  "  raising  her  dark 
eyes  questioningly  to  the  face  above  hers. 

"  Finite  may  never  hope  to  solve  Infinity,"  was 
the  reply.  "  Much  which  appears  uncertain, 
vague,  and  ofttimes  questionable  good  to  our  mor 
tality,  will  take  to  itself  perfect  symmetry  and  un 
questionable  justice  to  our  immortality.  I  believe, 
and  love  to  believe,  Yensie,  that  all  God  does,  says 
or  allows,  will  sometime  make  itself  manifest  to  us 
as  consistent  with  the  highest  and  most  indispu 
table  reason ;  until  then,  I  can  wait  for  light  on 
things  yet  dim,  and  trust  him  where  I  cannot 
trace."  And  the  pure,  sweet,  upturned  face  bore 
ample  testimony  to  this.  "  Yensie,  you  have  not 
told  me  yet  your  difficulty." 

"  The  eighth  chapter  of  Romans,  Alice.  It  came 
in  my  course  of  reading,  yesterday,"  the  maiden 
answered. 

"  The  old  battle-field  well-covered  with  wordy 
wars  of  ancient  and  modern  heroes,"  said  Alice. 
"Nevertheless,  it  shines  out  through  and  above 
them  all,  as  sweetly  full  of  God's  own  light,  as  if 
they  —  many  of  them  —  had  not  lived,  fought  and 
died,  ignorant  of  its  precious  ministry  to  their  own 


126  YENSIE  WALTON. 

souls,  had  they  but  received  it.  Yensie,  in  all 
Bible  study,  take  the  book  sensibly,  and  believe 
what  you  read  just  as  it  reads.  It  was  written 
for  men,  as  such,  and  as  much  as  any  other 
book,  and  as  sensibly,  if  God  has  not  failed. 
Surely  He  who  knew  men,  knew  how  to  speak  so  as 
to  be  understood  by  them,  even  the  most  ignorant 
and  simple.  You  may  receive  this  book  as  you 
would  any  other,  with  this  remarkable  difference : 
it  is  every  word  unquestionably  true,  and  however 
well  known,  ever  quite  new  to  each  humble  soul's 
ever-changing  necessity. 

"  O,  Miss  Grey !  "  cried  Yensie,  "  You  surely 
do  not  mean  to  say  that  it  is  all  to  be  taken  liter 
ally,  just  as  it  reads.  Are  not  some  parts  to  be 
applied  spiritually  and  some  practically  ?  " 

"  Some  parts  were  written  for  the  spiritual  in 
man,  and  some  for  the  practical,  and  can  only  be 
received  in  this  way,"  answered  Miss  Grey,  quietly. 
"  God  has  drawn  his  own  line,  Yensie.  You  and  I 
have  absolutely  nothing  to  do  with  that ;  the  Holy 
Spirit  applies  the  truth  as  it  is  intended.  We  are 
to  receive  it  as  God's  good,  loving,  tender  letter  to 
us  telling  what  others  have  done,  what  we  are  to 
do  until  he  comes,  or  takes  us  to  himself.  I  pre 
fer  his  precious  message  michanged — however 
crude  it  may  appear  to  some  —  rather  than  the 
well-meant  embellishments  and  explanations  of 
over  zealous  friends.  I  like  to  believe  he  knew 
just  what  I  was  when  he  wrote  it  to  me;  and 


YENSIE  WALTON.  127 

therefore,  wrote  just  what  I  could  understand. 
And  what  puzzles  me  I  prefer  to  keep  until  I  see 
him,  and  can  ask  him  its  meaning.  But  Yeusie," 
as  if  to  turn  the  conversation,  "  your  troublesome 
chapter  has  brought  me  much  of  my  sweetest  com 
fort  for  many  years.  What  objections  can  you 
possibly  urge  against  my  old  friend  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  really  whether  I  have  objections," 
said  the  young  girl.  "I  don't  want  to  object  to 
God.  It  is  the  old  trouble,  Alice ;  I  can  get  no 
farther  than. I  understand,  and  so  'I  lighted  upon 
a  certain  place,  and  tarried  there  all  night,  be 
cause  the  sun  was  set,' "  said  the  girl,  in  the 
words  of  a  late  Sabbath-school  lesson.  "  I  was  so 
delighted  with  the  chapter,  it  seemed  the  most 
precious  of  any  I  had  read,  until  I  got  to  the 
twenty -eighth  verse.  I  think  I  could  have  got 
over  that  even,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  two  that 
follow;  I  could  not  explain  them  away,  and  the 
'  calling,  foreknowledge,  predestination,'  etc.,  were 
just  so  many  rocks  upon  which  my  head  lay  any 
thing  but  restfully,  last  night,"  and  she  sighed. 

Miss  Grey  smiled. 

"  You  have  altogether  mistaken  their  use,  dear 
child,"  she  said.  "  They  were  never  intended  for 
a  pillow  to  your  head  ;  but  rather  a  strong  founda 
tion  for  your  feet  to  rest  on.  Though  a  firm 
foundation  gives  more  chance  of  rest,  I  grant  you. 
The  man  who  built  his  house  on  the  rock  took 
twice  the  comfort,  that  stormy  night,  that  his 


128  YENSIE  WALTON. 

neighbor  did ;  and  he  had  good  reason  to.  '  Built 
up  in  our  most  holy  faith,'  Yensie,  this  is  a  part  of 
it.  I  am  glad,  my  child,"  Miss  Grey  continued, 
"  that  you  have  come  to  this  just  now,  in  the  very 
beginning  of  your  Christian  life  —  learned  divines 
to  the  contrary.  Milk  is  good  when  sweet  and 
rich ;  and  beef  as  well,  when  rightly  prepared. 
And  I  have  dared  to  believe  that  a  little  spiritual 
meat,  skillfully  administered,  instead  of  hurting 
our  young  converts,  might  result  in  a  more  robust 
Christian  life." 

"  But,  Miss  Grey,"  said  Yensie,  "it  looks  so  ter 
rible  to  me — this  choice  of  God." 

"  Does  it  ?  Now  it  looks  beautiful  to  me,"  re 
sponded  the  lady. 

"  Yes,  when  one  is  among  the  called ;  but  how 
can  we  be  sure  ?  " 

"  My  darling  has  come  to  '  Doubting  Castle,'  " 
said  Miss  Grey.  "  I  think,  Yensie,  God's  written 
word  and  voice  in  the  soul  always  agree  ;  and  it  is 
written :  '  My  sheep  hear  my  voice  and  follow 
me.'  " 

"  What  if  he  had  not  called  me  ?  "  questioned 
Yensie. 

"  He  has,"  replied  the  lady. 

"  But  I  always  thought,"  said  the  girl,  timidly, 
"that  salvation  was  free." 

"  It  is,"  was  the  answer,  "  '  Without  money  and 
without  price.'  ' 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,"  said  Yensie ;  "  but  I  meant 
full,  world-embracing." 


YENSIE  WALTON.  129 

"  '  Come  unto  me  and  be  ye  saved,  all  the  ends 
of  the  earth  ; '  '  Whosoever  will,  let  him  come  and 
take  of  the  water  of  life  freely,' "  repeated  Alice. 

"  O,  Miss  Grey,  how  can  these  two  agree  ? " 
queried  Yensie. 

"There  are  some  that  cavil  at  the  thought  of 
three  persons  and  one  Godhead,  and  say,  like  Nic- 
odemus  of  old :  '  How  can  these  things  be  ? ' 
said  her  teacher.  "  '  Nevertheless,  the  foundation 
of  God  standeth  sure.'  We  must  follow  the  WORD, 
believe  the  WOED,  until  we  get  where  mortality  is 
to  be  swallowed  up  of  life.  Eternity  will  make 
plain  many  mysteries ;  the  Judgment  make  many 
revelations  concerning  both  God  and  man ;  until 
then,  let  us  be  patient." 

"  But,"  objected  Yensie,  "  but,  Miss  Grey,  can 
you  not  somewhat  explain  this  ?  " 

"  No,  child,"  was  the  reply,  "  I  should  be  equal 
to  my  Creator,  could  I  read  him  fully.  There  is  a 
verse  in  the  thirteenth  chapter  of  first  Corinthians 
that  reads  :  '  Then  shall  I  know,  even  as  also  I  am 
known.'  That  will  be  mighty,  all-comprehensive 
knowledge.  There  is  an  end  to  ignorance,  you  see  ; 
but  not  here — not  here.  When  we  are  like  Him, 
darling,  because  we  see  Him  as  He  is,  then  shall 
we  know  all;  for  the  present  we  must  say,  He 
Jcnoivs,  and  let  that  suffice.  Part  of  the  truth, 
with  the  assurance  of  knowing  all  soon,  provided 
it  gives  us  all  the  light  we  need  to  walk  by  is 
enough,  or  ought  to  be.  There  is  such  a  thing  as 


130  YENSIE  WALTON. 

predestination  —  He  says  so.  Such  a  thing  as  free 
moral  agency  —  He  says  so.  They  run  like  threads 
of  iron  and  gold  through  the  whole  Bible,  old  and 
new,  strengthening  and  glorifying  it.  We  could 
not  do  without  them  both,  or  we  should  have  had 
but  one ;  God  never  wastes.  His  predestinating 
grace  upholds  my  faith,  even  when  my  feet  slip. 
His  '  Whosoever  will,  may  '  is  given,  that  none  de 
spair.  Election  is  God's  choice  ;  free  moral  agency 
is  man's  — yet  these  two  are  one.  The  first  is  God's 
grasp  which  holds  and  never  tires ;  the  second  is 
man's  hand  stretched  upward  to  receive  that  clasp. 
One  represents  Infinity  looking  down,  seeking 
man's  love  and  willing  it  His  ;  the  other  represents 
finiteness,  with  hungry  cry  raised  to  the  throne, 
asking  the  privilege  of  loving,  fitness  to  love,  him 
self  thus  ratifying  heaven's  decree.  You  and  I, 
Yensie,  perhaps  cannot  reconcile  these  two.  He 
can.  He  is  King ;  do  not  uncrown  him.  Let  God 
be  God ;  we  would  not  bring  him  down  to  our 
own  level,  or  measure  him  by  the  extent  of 
our  own  comprehension.  Nay,  rather  let  us  bring 
ourselves,  and  all  we  have,  to  him  and  his  Bible, 
allowing  them  to  be  our  standard,  fashioning 
our  religion  to  suit  them,  rather  than  trying  that 
degenerating  process  of  bringing  them  down  to 
suit  our  preconceived  notions." 

The  young  girl  did  not  speak  when  her  teacher 
ceased  talking;  but,  skilled  in  reading  that  young 
face,  Miss  Grey  saw  she  was  still  troubled. 


WALTON.  181 


"My  child,  if  I  had  done  something  which 
looked  unjust  to  you,  would  you  condemn  me  for 
it  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No,  dear  Alice,"  was  the  prompt  reply. 

"Why  not?"  continued  the  lady,  smiling. 

"  Because  in  all  my  life,  I  never  knew  you  to  be 
unjust  ;  and  I  should  be  sure  you  could  make  it 
quite  right  by  an  explanation." 

"  And  you  would  do  just  right.  Then  seeing 
our  Father  has  done  all  things  well,  darling,  where 
we  can  follow  him,  let  us  trust  him  unfalteringly 
where  we  cannot.  Plant  your  feet  upon  the  truth, 
dear  child,  it  will  bear  you.  Take  those  trouble 
some  passages  home  to  your  heart,  they  will  be 
like  impressions  from  the  King's  own  signet  ring. 
Oh,  let  him  seal  you  on  your  forehead  so  clearly, 
so  plainly,  that  not  only  he,  but  all  the  world  shall 
know,  that  you  are  one  of  those  that  he  knoweth 
as  his.  But  that  it  may  be  so,  darling,  you  must 
seek  to  live  as  a  God-chosen  woman  should.  '  Let 
every  one  that  nameth  the  name  of  Christ,  depart 
from  iniquity.'  " 

When  Miss  Grey  finished,  Yensie's  brow  cleared 
and  a  face  full  of  holy  fervor  was  lifted  to  her  own. 
The  lady  smiled  brightly  into  the  shining  eyes. 

"  You  remember,  little  girl,"  she  said,  "  when  we 
went  over  that  Sabbath-school  lesson  from  which 
you  quoted  at  the  beginning  of  our  conversation  — 
the  one  on  Jacob  —  that  some  of  the  scholars 
thought  it  a  delay  to  him  to  rest  at  Bethel,  and  he 


132  YENSIE  WALTON. 

not  knowing  but  that  his  brother  might  be  in  close 
pursuit.  But  there,  on  that  rocky  pillow,  he  ob 
tained  promises  of  help  without  which  his  journey 
had  been  worse  than  useless.  We  cannot  take  too 
strong  a  grasp  of  certain  truths.  Fast  journeyings 
are  not  always  the  most  successful.  Who  knows, 
my  darling,  but  your  tarrying  over  those  three 
verses  may  be  to  you  everlasting  gain  —  Bethel, 
with  its  ladders,  on  which  God's  messengers  ascend 
and  descend.  Whom  God  keeps  is  well  kept. 
God  give  you  grace  to  see  where  your  keeping 
lays  —  not  with  self,  but  Jesus.  Take  your  Bible 
now,  and  turn  to  the  twenty-eighth  chapter  of 
Genesis  and  read,  commencing  Avith  your  quota 
tion.  See  if  you  can  find  predestination  there  ?  " 

Yensie  did  as  requested,  and  smiled  as  she  read 
the  thirteenth,  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  verses. 
The  twentieth  and  twenty-first  verses  she  read  very 
slowly : 

"  '  And  Jacob  vowed  a  vow,  saying,  if  God  will 
be  with  me,  and  will  keep  me  in  this  way  that  I 
go,  and  will  give  me  bread  to  eat  and  raiment  to 
put  on,  so  that  I  come  again  to  my  father's  house 
hi  peace  ;  then  shall  the  Lord  be  my  God.' " 

"  O,  Alice,"  she  cried,  "  he  is  my  God  now  ;  I 
will  not  repeat  the  vow  of  Jacob.  I  would  rather 
say  to  Satan,  with  the  three  Hebrew  worthies, 
'  Our  God  whom  we  serve  is  able  to  deliver  us, 
and  he  will  deliver  us.  But  if  not,  be  it  known 
unto  thee,  O  king,  that  we  will  not  serve  thy 


TENSIE  WALTON.  133 

gods,  nor  worship  the  golden  image  which  thou 
hast  set  up.'  Jacob  promised  a  tenth  of  all  to  God. 
O,  Alice,  surely  he  has  right  to  all  we  have,  since  he 
bought  us  with  a  price  —  and  such  a  price  !  "  she 
said  with  tears.  "  Is  not  all  we  can  do,  at  best 
but  reasonable  service  ?  " 

About  a  week  after  this  conversation  with  Miss 
Grey,  Yensie  presented  herself  for  baptism  ;  and 
one  pleasant  Sabbath  morning  was  baptized  in  the 
stream  which  wound  its  way  through  her  uncle's 
farm. 

There  were  few  dry  eyes  among  the  spectators 
that  had  gathered  that  early  hour  on  the  bank. 

Herbert  Gardenell,  hearing  of  the  service,  had 
induced  Harry  to  attend  it  with  him,  hoping  the 
beauty  of  the  scene  might  inspire  him  with  long 
ings  for  a  better  life,  as  it  has  along  the  ages,  so 
often  impressed  hearts  far  from  God. 

Yensie  was  the  last  of  three  to  receive  the  ordi 
nance.  As  the  brown  head  was  lifted  out  of  the 
waters,  the  morning  sun,  until  then  partly  ob 
scured  by  clouds,  threw  its  dazzling  rays  about  it, 
turning  each  water  drop  to  a  sparkling  gem,  and 
revealing  a  face  so  radiant  with  heavenly  joy  and 
peace  as  to  thrill  every  beholder.  Unconsciously, 
she  joined  her  pure,  clear  voice  in  singing  the 
hymn  raised  on  the  shore  as,  both  hands  clasped  in 
those  of  her  pastor,  she  moved  slowly  forward. 

Herbert    Gardenell    felt    his     heart     strangely 


134  YENSIE  WALTON. 

moved.  Great  tears  welled  to  his  eyes  and  over 
his  cheeks,  and  instinctively  he  turned  to  see 
what  impression  this  scene  was  making  on  hi* 
friend. 

But  Harry  was  gone.  He  had  borne  all  he 
could ;  he  felt  that  another  moment  beneath  those 
influences  would  have  been  too  much  for  his 
worldly  resolutions,  and  he  had  hurried  away,  ere, 
as  he  expressed  it,  "he  had  made  a  fool  of  him 
self." 

Long  after  every  one  else  had  left  the  spot,  the 
young  student  still  lingered  ;  a  thousand  emotions 
struggling  within  him.  And  only  the  church  bell 
at  last  drew  him  from  the  place.  If  there  was  no 
new  light  in  his  eyes  as  he  watched  a  certain  face 
in  the  choir  that  morning,  it  was  not  because  no 
new  interest  had  possession  of  his  heart ;  and 
almost  naturally  he  waited  until  after  Sabbath- 
school  and  walked  with  Yensie  as  far  as  their  paths 
were  one. 

Again,  after  communion  service  that  afternoon, 
he  found  himself  beside  her,  and  after  parting 
with  her  at  the  gate,  his  eyes  still  followed  her 
slight  form  as  long  as  it  remained  in  view,  and  lin 
gered  over  the  point  where  it  disappeared.  He 
sighed  as  he  turned  up  towards  the  house  and 
smiled  even  as  he  sighed,  and  his  heart  echoed 
both  sigh  and  smile. 


CHAPTER  XL 


"  Her  reasons  are  as  two  grains  of  wheat,  hid  in  two  bushels 
of  chaff;  you  shall  seek  all  day  ere  you  find  them,  and  when 
you  have  found  them,  they  are  not  worth  the  search." 

—  SHAKESPEARE. 


R.  CAMPBELL,  I  very  much  admire 
your  friend,  Mr.  Gardenell,"  said  sim 
pering  Miss  Grant,  one  morning,  turning 
her  peculiar,  little  grey  eyes,  with  what  Harry 
called  her  "killing  look,"  up  to  his  face. 

They  were  standing  on  the  verandah  alone. 
Amy  Grant  was  of  average  face  and  form,  consid 
erably  beyond  her  teens  ;  and  if  Harry  is  to  be 
believed,  very  much  afraid  of  becoming  an  old 
maid. 

She  had  tried  every  art  to  captivate  that  young 
gentleman  the  season  before,  but  to  no   purpose. 
135 


136  YENSIE   WALTON. 

And  according  to  his  account  told  a  friend  of  hers, 
as  a  great  secret,  that  though  Mr.  Campbell  was 
so  good-looking,  he  didn't  appear  to  have  any 
heart,  and  she  should  insist  on  love  in  the  gentle 
man  she  should  marry,  and  therefore  had  set  her 
self  for  better  game. 

Harry  had  been  waiting  with  great  interest  to 
see  where  she  would  begin  operations  again,  and 
found,  much  to  his  amusement,  that  she  had  lighted 
on  his  unsuspicious  friend.  He  was  always  ready 
for  anything  that  promised  fun,  and  received  her 
first  confidential  advances  warmly. 

"Shows  your  good  sense,  Miss  Grant,''  he  re 
plied  to  her  remark. 

"  He  appears  to  be  a  gentleman,"  she  said,  hesi 
tatingly;  and  Harry  thought  of  that  shabby  suit. 
He  answered  emphatically,  however,  with  one  word  : 

"Thoroughbred." 

"And  he  is  a  Christian.  I  think  it  is  very  com 
mendable  in  a  young  man  to  be  a  Christian,"  she 
went  on. 

"  Exceedingly  so,  and  in  a  young  lady  also,  as 
to  that  matter,"  returned  Harry. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  have  always  thought  gentlemen 
needed  religion  more,  and  became  it  better,"  she 
said.  "  You  know  a  woman  is  rather  the  reflection 
of  her  husband,  or  should  be,  and  does  not  need 
to  make  much  of  a  stand  before  she  has  one.  It 
makes  so  much  trouble  sometimes,  in  families,  for 
young  ladies  to  settle  these  things  for  themselves. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  137 

It  is  so  much  better  to  wait  and  do  as  may  seem 
best  after  marriage,  —  because,  you  know,  we  are 
commanded  to  obey." 

Truly  this  was  a  novel  way  of  putting  things, 
and  Harry  laughed  as  he  imagined  what  Yensie 
Walton  would  say  to  this  sort  of  reasoning. 

"  Really,  Miss  Grant,"  he  said  "  you  are  quite  a 
theologian  in  your  own  way,  and  ought  to  be  quite 
a  help  to  a  young  and  ignorant  minister.  Now,  I 
never  thought  of  the  thing  in  this  way  before.  I 
confess  to  have  had  rather  a  weakness  in  favor  of 
Christian  women  —  have  always  thought  I  should 
prefer  one  myself.  Perhaps,  however,  young 
women  who  do  profess  religion  are  particular  only 
to  marry  Christians." 

"  Sometimes  there  is  no  choice,"  said  the  lady. 
"  One  can  never  be  sure  whether  a  Christian  or 
unchristian  man  will  propose  to  her." 

"  And  it  would  never  do  to  say  noj  for  fear  of 
becoming  an  old  maid,"  laughed  Harry.  "  I  begin 
to  see  your  meaning,  Miss  Amy.  You  think  a 
woman  has  no  choice  in  the  matter.  Pardon  me, 
but  I  have  seen  a  few  who  would  run  all  the  risks 
of  single-blessedness  rather  than  marry  a  man 
who  was  not  entirely  agreeable  to  them." 

"  Oh,  I  should  feel  so  myself  under  some  cir 
cumstances,  Mr.  Campbell,  but  we  ought  not  to  be 
selfish ;  we  should  consider  the  feelings  of  others, 
as  well  as  our  own.  I  always  believed  in  consid 
ering  both  sides  of  a  question." 


138  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  Indeed ! "  said  Harry,  who  never  supposed 
Miss  Grant  guilty  of  such  a  virtue  as  considera 
tion,  judging  from  her  pursuit  of  himself.  "In 
deed,  but  really  Miss  Amy,  what  has  this  to  do 
with  Gardenell  ?  I  fear  he  would  be  just  the  one 
to  insist  that  the  lady  of  his  choice  be  a  professed 
Christian  before  marriage." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  said  the  young  lady  earn 
estly.  "  Well,  Mr.  Campbell,  I  always  admired 
religion,  and  do  think  conscience  a  great  thing  for 
any  man  to  possess  —  now  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  glancing 
mischievously  into  the  face  beside  him.  "Well, 
yes ;  when  it  accompanies  a  well-knit  frame, 
gigantic  intellect  and  elegant  manners.  But  I 
think  even  you  will  admit  it  isn't  just  as  valuable, 
thafr  is,  outside  of  its  possessor,  when  done  up  in  a 
poor,  disfigured,  misshapen,  old  rheumatic  like 
Uncle  Jeff  Barkley." 

"  O,  Mr.  Harry,  what  a  funny  fellow  you  are," 
was  the  response.  "  But  is  he  very  poor — I  heard 
he  was  ?  " 

"  Who,  old  Uncle  Barkley  ?  Undoubtedly,"  re 
plied  Harry,  innocently." 

"  N.ow,  you  knew  I  didn't  mean  him,  you 
naughty  fellow,"  said  the  lady,  with  prettily  as 
sumed  vexation.  "  As  if  I  didn't  know  all  about 
poor  old  Uncle  Jeff." 

"  Oh,  you  mean  Gard  !  "  pretending  great  aston 
ishment.  "  What,  six  good  feet  of  flesh  and  bone, 


YENSIE   WALTON.  13P 

a  splendid  intellect,  well-stored ;  youth  and  health 
and  culture ;  I'm  amazed  at  the  question  !  No 
man  can  be  poor  with  such  possessions." 

"  You  know  I  didn't  mean  that,  either,  naughty 
man,"  continued  the  lady.  "  Is  he  worth  much 
money  ?  It  is  such  a  pity  that  a  splendid  young 
man  like  him  should  be  cramped  for  means." 

Miss  Grant  was  the  possessor  of  some  hundreds 
of  thousands ;  she  evidently  wished  to  share  it 
with  this  young  man,  should  he  give  her  a  legiti 
mate  right  to  do  so. 

"  Oh,  Gard  is  anything  but  poor,"  said  Harry. 
"  I've  often  heard  him  speak  of  his  Father's  bound 
less  wealth." 

"  Why,  I  should  never  suppose  it.  Why,  then, 
does  he  wear — "  and  Miss  Amy  stopped  and 
pinked.  That  unfortunate  suit,  Harry  thought ; 
but  went  on,  in  no  way  daunted. 

"  His  clothes,  you  mean  ?  His  Father  has 
enough,  and  is  by  no  means  stingy,  I  believe,  but 
he  likes  to  make  his  children  independent  and  self- 
reliant,  and  above  the  pride  that  fears  to  wear 
shabby  clothes.  Now  I  rather  think  Gard  prides 
himself  upon  his  independence  in  appearing  here 
with  that  on.  I  remonstrated  with  him,  but  in 
vain.  It  was  not  bad,  he  said ;  and  he  is  very  ob 
stinate." 

"  Well,  it  is  not  bad,  and  fits  remarkably,  but  I 
shouldn't  suppose  he'd  prefer  to  wear  it.  Is  hia 
father  alive?" 


140  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  Oh,  yes,  he'll  never  die,"  said  Harry. 

"  Well,  of  course  Mr.  Gardenell  is  of  age  ?  "  she 
questioned. 

"  Just  about.  Not  as  old  as  I  am  by  two  years. 
The  trouble  is,  his  possessions  mostly  lie  in  another 
country  —  one  that  you  and  I  don't  know  much 
about  —  and  he  won't  get  much  of  it  until  he  gets 
there;  or  so  I've  heard  him  say." 

"  Why,  I  should  think  he  might  have  it  settled 
for  him  by  a  lawyer,"  said  Miss  Amy,  much  in 
terested. 

"  It  isn't  possible.  Can't  be  done  by  proxy. 
Gard  is  the  soul  of  honor,  and  I've  heard  him  say 
so ;  and  the  truth  is,  he's  so  anxious  to  help  poor 
sinners  in  this  part  of  the  universe,  that  he  is 
willing  to  postpone  indefinitely  the  final  settle 
ment." 

Now,  it  must  be  confessed,  at  this  point  Miss 
Grant  began  to  imagine  herself  accompanying 
Herbert  on  his  journey  towards  his  inheritance 
without  a  single  idea  of  what  Harry  meant ;  and 
that  young  gentleman  proceeded : 

"But  as  I  said  before,  Miss  Amy,  any  young 
lady  who  wishes  to  get  into  the  graces  of  Garde 
nell  must  mind  her  P's  and  Q's.  He'll  stand  no 
flouncing,  curling  and  powdering,  I  assure  you ; 
he  detests  all  such  business." 

"  Why,  Mr.  Campbell,  I  thought  every  gentle 
man  liked  to  see  ladies  look  well,"  said  Amy  in 
surprise. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  141 

"Not  he,"  replied  the  young  man,  enjoying  her 
evident  perplexity.  "  He'd  rather  have  a  woman 
homely  as  a  hedge-fence,  than  made  over  by  the 
latest  Parisian  fashion-plate.  His  wife  will  look 
plain,  dress  plain,  or  else  she'll  swallow  more  St. 
Paul  than  will  be  at  all  agreeable." 

"  You  surprise  me !  But  then,"  evidently  de 
termined  to  find  excuse  for  Herbert's  peculiarities, 
"  but  then,  I  never  studied  this  subject,  and  am 
not  expected  to  know.  If  the  Bible  forbids  these 
things,  Mr.  Gardenell  is  right  in  opposing  them, 
and  I  admire  his  consistency." 

Soon  after,  Harry  got  rid  of  the  lady.  But  it 
was  all  he  could  do  to  control  his  countenance 
when  she  appeared  at  the  late  dinner-table,  her 
hair  drawn  straight  back  and  fastened  simply  be 
hind  her  head ;  her  usually  pink  and  white  face 
decidedly  sallow,  and  arrayed  in  the  plainest  dress 
she  owned,  not  wholly  free  from  ruffles,  but  en 
tirely  devoid  of  ornaments. 

Young  Campbell  saw  that  right  after  dinner 
she  fastened  herself  on  his  friend,  and  smiled 
when  passing  them  he  heard  her  say : 

"  You  think  every  young  lady  should  be  a  pro 
fessor  of  religion,  I  believe,  Mr.  Gardenell  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  a  possessor,"  Herbert  replied. 

"And  what  should  you  say  one  must  do  to 
possess,  Mr.  Gardenell;  dress  plainly,  and  deny 
one's  self?  " 

"  I  should  rather  say,  believe  on  the  Lord  Jesus 


142  YENSDB  WALTON. 

Christ,"  was  the  reply.  "Externals  are  an  after 
consideration.  'The  kingdom  of  God,'  said  the 
Master,  '  cometh  not  with  observation,'  but,  'is 
within  you.'  I  believe,  nevertheless,  when  it  is 
within  it  will  work  out  and  make  itself  seen  even 
in  our  dress  and  deportment." 

"  I  understand,"  went  on  this  very  astute  lady, 
"that  you  consider  ruffles,  and  curls,  and  red 
cheeks  sinful." 

"I  have  seen  my  mother  wear  ruffles,  and  she 
has  red  cheeks,  even  to-day.  I  always  considered 
her  the  excellent  woman,"  replied  Herbert, 
smiling. 

"  She  never  used  anything  to  make  them  red  ?  " 
questioned  Amy. 

"  Nothing  but  fresh  air  and  cold  water ;  both  of 
which  are  legitimate,  I  believe,"  the  young  man 
answered. 

"  But  you  consider  it  wrong,"  pressed  the  lady, 
"that  is,  you  believe  the  Bible  teaches  it  to  be 
wrong,  to  wear  fine  clothes,  and  put  up  the  hair  in 
curl  papers,  and  resort  to  many  of  these  little 
things  used  by  ladies  to  make  themselves  look 
well." 

k'  Really,"  said  Herbert,  smiling,  "  I  have  had 
such  limited  acquaintance  with  ladies,  I  have 
never  given  the  subject  thought.  I  should  judge, 
myself,  it  would  be  best  not  to  resort  to  the  artifi 
cial  unless  absolutely  necessary  to  cover  some 
glaring  defect.  I  think  I  should  justify  a  young 


Miss  Grant  and  Mr.  Gardenell.    Page  142. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  143 


lady  who  had  lost  all  her  hair,  in  wearing  a  wig. 
If  she  had  any,  it  seems  to  me  the  preferable  way 
to  wear  it  would  be  as  God  gave  it.  Now,"  plac 
ing  his  hand  on  his  straight  locks,  "  I  never  dream 
of  getting  my  hair  curled  so  as  to  compete  with 
friend  Harry.  But  I  confess  to  great  ignorance 
upon  the  subject,  and  shall  not  attempt  to  quote 
Scripture.  I  am  sure  of  one  thing,  however,  Miss 
Grant  —  no  person  is  obliged  to  act  according  to 
another  person's  convictions,  or  under  another's 
conscience,  I  might  say.  If  the  heart  is  right, 
these  things  will  all  be  settled.  If  seeking  con 
tinual  guidance  from  God,  we  cannot  walk  far 
astray;  and  to  be  is  always  better  than  to  seem. 

Miss  Grant  was  nonplussed  :  but  Gardenell  had 
his  suspicions  as  to  the  instigator  of  this  conversa 
tion,  and  was  quite  ready  for  Harry  when,  a  little 
after,  he  joined  him  in  the  garden. 

"Gard,  I  beseech  you,  be  merciful,"  cried  the 
young  man,  raising  his  hands.  "  I  see  retribution 
in  your  eye.  I  plead  guilty,  but  would  advance 
in  palliation  of  my  fault,  youth  and  extreme  sensi 
tiveness  to  the  wiles  of  young  ladies,  generally, 
and  Miss  Grant  in  particular.  I  assure  you  she 
set  the  snaje  for  my  unguarded  feet.  You  have 
made  a  conquest,  old  fellow,  let  me  congratulate 
}rou."  And  the  wild  boy  seized  his  friend's  hand, 
shaking  and  squeezing  it  unmercifully. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Herbert,  laughing ;  "  but  you 
put  me  in  a  queer  place,  I  admit." 


144  YENSEE  WALTON". 

"  But  you  were  quite  equal  to  the  occasion,  I'll 
be  bound.  I  studied  your  countenance  in  vain  for 
any  signs  of  confusion.  I  didn't  know  but  the 
lady  would  propose  to  you  out  and  out,  to  save 
you  the  trouble,  as  you  are  young  and  diffident.  I 
was  prepared  to  rush  in  and  save  you  from  such  a 
fate  at  all  hazards.  Really,  Gard,  what  in  the 
world  would  you  do  if  she  did  ?  " 

"  Refuse  her,  of  course."  was  the  decided  an 
swer.  But  Harry,  at  the  bare  thought  of  his 
friend  so  situated,  went  off  into  a  fit  of  uncon 
trollable  laughter. 

It  was  impossible  not  to  laugh  with  him,  as  he 
began  to  picture  such  a  scene,  mimicing  first  Her 
bert  and  then  Miss  Grant. 

"  I  see  you,"  he  said,  "as  cool  as  a  cucumber  just 
from  the  ice-chest,  saying  in  a  tone  of  deepest 
commiseration,  '  Miss  Grant,  I  am  very  sorry  to 
distress  you  ;  but  it  really  is  impossible  for  me  to 
do  you  this  small  favor.'  And  then  her,  'I'm  sure 
I  didn't  mean  anything,  Mr.  Gardenell,  but  I 
thought  I  might  help  you  to  be  useful,'  —  bless 
us ! "  and  Hurry  leaned  against  a  tree,  shaking 
with  mirth,  in  which  his  friend  joined  heartily. 

"  Harry,  when  will  you  learn  to  be  sensible  ?  " 
said  Herbert,  at  length.  "  I  declare,  I  shall  be 
afraid  to  venture  within  ten  feet  of  the  young 
lady  again." 

"  Afraid  !  "  said  Campbell,  heroically.  "  You 
should  have  seen  me  work  it  last  year — just  saved 


YENSIE  WALTON.  145 

myself  and  no  more,  a  half-dozen  times.  Bless 
me,  didn't  she  hold  on  though?  Had  no  idea 
then  you'd  be  the  next  victim.  I  tell  you  she  is 
getting  desperate  —  must  be,  after  the  appearance 
she  put  in  at  the  dinner-table.  I  really  thought 
Gard,  I  should  have  to  leave  the  room.  My 
dear  mother  looked  exceedingly  shocked  and 
shook  her  head  at  me.  Miss  Amy  has  her  good 
points ;  you  know  she's  worth  some  hundreds  of 
thousands.  Puss  was  about  as  amused  as  I  was ; 
didn't  she  look  like  a  scare-crow  now  ?  " 

"  Who,  Miss  Grant  ?  "  asked  Herbert.  "  It  did 
strike  me  she  looked  peculiar.  I  only  glanced  at 
her,  but  saw  there  was  some  difference,  and 
noticed  a  general  agitation  on  the  part  of  the 
ladies." 

"  All  on  your  account,  my  friend,"  said  Harry, 
in  mock  solemnity.  "Not  a  particle  of  lily  or 
pink.  She  reminded  me  of  a  wilted  dandelion- 
blossom  or  a  saffron-bag.  Her  hair  drawn  straight 
back.  What  on  earth  do  you  suppose  the  others 
thought  of  the  performance.  I  never  was  so  im 
pressed  with  my  own  ability ;  Uncle  Winthrop 
was  utterly  confounded.  He  looked  at  me,  I 
looked  at  my  fork,  and  mother  looked  at  us  both. 
I  believe  she  thought  I  was  at  the  bottom  of  the 
mischief  as  usual.  Well,  it  is  a  comfort  some 
times  just  to  be  sure  what  is  natural  and  what  is 
not.  There's  nothing  like  dropping  seeds  of  truth 
while  the  heart  is  tender  —  works  like  magic  ;  and 


146  YENSEG  WALTON. 

although  Miss  Amy's  tenderness  all  lay  in  the  di 
rection  of  the  earth,  earthy,"  with  a  comical  look 
at  Herbert,  "  yet  I  did  my  duty,  and  feel  better  as 
old  Aunt  Betsy  would  say.  I  did  not  think  it 
right  to  allow  this  lady  to  enter  the  untried  future 
without  giving  her  some  idea  of  what  a  minister's 
wife  should  be  ;  without  warning  her  faithfully  of 
the  coming  man's  peculiar  notions.  I  begin  to  en 
tertain  hopes  that  my  feeble  endeavors  were  not 
wholly  in  vain  from  this  first-fruit.  Would  not 
you,  my  friend,  encourage  me  expecting  perma 
nent  reform  if  not  conversion." 

"  O  Harry !  Harry  ! "  said  Herbert  shaking  his 
head  ;  "  when  will  you  learn  not  to  jest  with  sol 
emn  things  ?  When  you  feel  again  like  encour 
aging 'Miss  Grant  in  an  attack  on  me,  remember 
the  golden  rule." 

"  I  will  try  to  remember,"  said  the  wild  boy, 
with  assumed  gravity  ;  "  but  I  know  you  would  be 
extremely  edified  to  hear  Miss  Grant  define  a 
lady's  position,  religiously,  before  and  after  mar 
riage.  I  could  but  think  how  yonder  young 
lady,"  waving  his  hand  toward  Valley  Farm,"  would 
flash  up  at  the  mere  suggestion  of  some  loving 
husband  to  adjust  these  little  religious  opinions  for 
her." 

Herbert  did  riot  reply  to  this.  He  was  silent 
for  a  few  moments,  then  passing  his  arm  through 
his  friend's  he  said,  quietly  : 

"Since    you    have    referred    to    Miss    Walton, 


YENSIE  WALTON.  147 

i 

allow  me  to  say  right  here,  —  and  I  know  I 
may  without  fear  of  giving  offence, —  that  you  are 
very  apt  to  speak  too  freely  of  a  young  lady  so  lit 
tle  known  to  you.  Be  careful  to  speak  less  fre 
quently  and  familiarly  of  one  who  has  given  you 
no  right  to  do  so.  It  is  an  injustice  I  feel  she 
would  resent." 

"  And  one  which  I  see  you  do  already  resent," 
said  Harry,  laughing  into  the  flushing  face  of  his 
friend.  "  Gurd,  I  have  never  meant  anything  by 
it,  as  Miss  Grant  would  say,  for  I  have  an  uncom 
mon  respect  for  Violet's  Ennie." 

"  I  felt  sure  you  had  not  thought  of  it  as  I 
had,"  responded  Herbert.  "  But,  Harry,  I  have  a 
feeling  of  tenderness,  protectiveness  I  might  say, 
for  all  young  womanhood ;  a  tendency  to  glorify 
and  exalt  it  which  revolts  from  any  undue  famil 
iarity.  I  never  had  a  sister  —  I  wish  I  had.  I 
think  I  would  prize  one  as  some  brothers  do  not ; 
but  I  have  a  mother  —  and  such  a  mother, —  per 
haps  the  reverence  with  which  I  regard  her  has 
communicated  itself  to  all  women." 

"  And  this  is  why  you  speak  for  Yensie  Wal 
ton  ?  Be  candid  with  yourself,  my  friend,  and 
search  your  heart.  Do  you  feel  exceedingly  sorry 
that  this  particular  girl  is  not  your  sister  ?  Honor 
bright,  now  aren't  you  just  a  little  bit  glad — just 
a  little,  that  she  isn't,"  and  Harry  poked  his  friend 
facetiously. 

"  Why  must  you  be  so    absurd,  Harry  ?  "  said 


148  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Herbert.     "  She  is  nothing  but  a  little  school-girl.'* 

"  And  will  never  be  anything  else,"  said  Harry, 
though  my  school-boy  friend  expects  to  develop 
somewhat.  Grandpa  Gardenell,  will  you  please 
inform  me  how  many  years  of  this  earthly  pil 
grimage  you  have  passed  ?  " 

"  Harry,  I  am  in  earnest,"  said  Herbert. 

"  I  see  you  are,  and  I  give  you  my  word  '  this 
rock  shall  fly '  "  —  and  Harry  sent  a  small  stone 
whizzing  through  the  air  —  "  sooner  than  I  shall 
forget  the  counsels  of  my  aged  friend." 

His  tone  was  exceedingly  ludicrous ;  but  Her 
bert  took  no  notice  of  this,  as  he  continued,  ear 
nestly  : 

"How  would  you  like  to  hear  Mose  Tapley 
speaking  familiarly  of  Nettie,  were  she  a  few  years 
older,  because  he  had  chanced  to  meet  and  speak 
with  her?" 

"Moses  Tapley  was  a  perfumed,  eye-glassed 
dandy,  known  at  school  as  very  obnoxious  to 
Campbell,"  and  at  this  question  the  young  man 
doubled  up  his  fists,  ominously. 

"  I'd " —  but  he  did  not  finish  the  sentence. 
"  I'm  not  such  a  puppy  as  that,  Gard.  But  you're 
right,  old  fellow,  and  in  sober  earnest  I  thank  you, 
and  like  you  better  for  what  you  have  said.  I  do 
not  wonder  my  poor  mother  trembles  for  her  reck 
less  boy.  To  be  honest  with  you,  half  of  what  I 
have  said  of  the  young  lady  was  said  expressly  to 
disconcert  my  poor  mamma  —  a  fact,  if  not  ex- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  149 

actly  creditable.  I  give  my  tongue  too  much  lib 
erty,  I  am  aware.  My  love  of  fun  is  continually 
leading  me  into  mischief.  Now  T  must  go  ;  but 
borrow  no  further  anxiety  on  that  score,  for  as 
Irish  Torn  said  to  me  the  day  I  scolded  him  for 
neglecting  my  horse  :  '  Be  aisy,  me  frind,  on  that 
hid  ;  for  it's  me  as'll  give  ye  no  further  rason  for 
thruble,"  and  Campbell  started  for  the  house,  fol 
lowed  by  the  loving  eyes  of  his  friend. 


CHAPTER     XII. 


"'Tis  lovely  as  an  angel's  dream, 
Her  golden  locks  with  sunlight  all  agleam, 
Her  holy  eyes  with  heaven  in  their  beam." 


,  -_,  ARDENELL,"  said  Harry,  one  bright  morn 
ing,  "  Will  you  go  to  the  red  farm-house 
with  me?" 

"  What  for,  pray  ?  "  questioned   his   friend.     I 
did  not  know  you  were  acquainted  there." 

"  Do  you  suppose  I  have  been  wasting  my  pre 
cious  time  while  you  and  Uncle  Winthrop  have 
been  improving  yours  in  fishing  ?  Not  a  bit  of 
it,"  laughed  Harry,  "  I  have  been  to  the  farm 
house  and  secured  a  footing,  if  I  do  not  mistake. 
You  see,  Puss  was  not  to  be  satisfied  with  an}r- 
thing  short  of  acquaintance  with  Violet,  after 
hearing  my  account  of  her,  and  like  a  loving 
brother,  which  I  am,  I  escorted  her  to  Valley 
160 


YENSIE  WALTON.  151 

Farm.  Maude  and  her  Ennie  were  out,  but  I 
found  the  right  side  of  the  old  lady  and  made  ar 
rangements  to  have  Violet  here  a  day.  On  our 
road  home  we  met  Miss  Yensie  and  her  charge. 
Of  course  I  stopped  and  let  Net  have  a  conversa 
tion  with  the  little  one,  which  ended  in  vows  of 
eternal  friendship,  to  be  satisfied  on  Maude's 
part  by  the  present  of  a  young  bantam.  To  me 
belongs  the  honor  of  escorting  thither  the  young 
lady  and  banty,  which  honor  I  am  willing  to 
share  with  my  friend  and  class-mate,"  and  Harry 
bowed  low. 

"  Net  will  ride  over  on  Selim ;  you  can  ride 
King  John.  I  must  take  the  pony-carriage  for  the 
small  fry.  My  lady  mother  informs  me  this  is  as 
favorable  an  occasion  as  any  for  the  advent  of 
this  farm-child,  over  whose  acquaintance  with 
Puss  she  is  rather  dubious.  I  assured  her  if 
Puss  ever  intended  to  keep  company  with  angels, 
she  might  as  well  begin  now,  and  I  wish  you  could 
have  seen  her  shocked  face.  I  know  what  mother 
expects ;  freckled  face,  red  hands,  frowsy  hair, 
etc.,  etc.  Won't  I  enjoy  her  surprise  ? "  said 
Campbell,  laughing. 

The  end  of  this  conversation  was,  that  about  an 
hour  'ifter  Mrs.  Walton  looked  up  from  her  work, 
to  exclaim :  "  Well  I  never,  if  there  ain't  young 
Campbell,  ajd  his  sister  and  another  gentleman. 
Millie  do  go  auj  fix  up  a  little  ;  you  never  look 
fit  to  see  anyone  —  where  is  Yensie  ? "  and  Aunt 


152  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Sarah  gave  a  little  touch  first  to  her  hair  and 
then  her  checked  apron,  as  if  to  smooth  imaginary 
wrinkles,  for  both  these  articles  were  always  in 
right  condition  to  receive  company. 

Yensie  was  in  the  meadow.  As  ihey  rode  lei 
surely  along,  Herbert's  eyes  discovered  her,  one 
arm  thrown  carelessly  about  the  neck  of  her 
Uncle's  old  mare,  Janet,  her  rosy  cheek  and  brown 
tresses  pressed  against  its  grey  side,  her  eyes 
fixed  far  off ;  she,  evidently  in  dream-land. 

The  young  man  gazed  at  the  picture  with  quick 
ening  pulse,  and  did  not  hear  Harry  address  him 
just  then.  "  What  are  you  looking  at  so  intentty, 
Gard  ?  Oh,  I  see  ;  isn't  she  just  a  beauty,  now  ?  " 

It  was  just  as  the  party  turned  a  curve  that 
brought  their  backs  toward  her  that  the  maiden's 
eyes  returning  from  dream-land  discovered  them. 
She  started,  and  smiled — "Janet  you  must  help 
me,"  she  said,  vaulting  lightly  to  the  faithful  crea 
ture's  back.  And  so  it  happened  that  just  as  the 
party  turned  into  the  large  gate,  she  came  around 
the  end  of  the  barn. 

Harry's  half  suppressed  whistle  discovered  her 
approach  to  his  friend,  but  before  Herbert  had 
time  to  reach  her  side,  she"  had  dismounted  arjd 
was  standing  beside  Maude,  ready  to  greet  them. 

She  stood  with  bright,  flushed  face  and  eyes 
brilliant  and  sparkling  after  her  exercise,  noting 
the  courtly  grace  witli  which  the  student  helped 
Nettie  from  her  saddle.  The  child  approached  her 


YENSIE  WALTOF.  153 

with  a  basket  of  rare,  beautiful  flowers  in  her  hand. 

"I  picked  every  one  of  them  myself  for  the 
sweet  singer,"  she  said,  with  pretty  dignity,  and 
Yensie  kissed  her  cheek  while  she  thanked  her, 
smiling  the  while  at  the  quaint  grace  with  which 
the  gift  had  been  presented. 

A  few  moments  more  and  Maude  led  her  little 
friend  to  the  farm-yard  to  take  her  choice  of  the 
pet  bantam  family,  which  serious  business  required 
advice  from  both  the  young  men  and  Yensie 
before  satisfactorily  settled.  Then  the  young  girl 
conducted  the  party  to  the  parlor,  improved  some 
what  since  the  orphan's  first  appearance  at  Valley 
Farm. 

The  maiden  was  in  one  of  her  gayest,  brightest 
moods,  and  presented  quite  a  new  side  of  her 
character  to  the  young  men. 

"  What  a  witch  you  must  be,  Miss  Yensie,  to  get 
here  before  us,"  said  Harry.  "  I  caught  sight  of 
you  in  the  meadow  and  began  to  feel  terribly  at 
thought  of  visiting  Valley  Farm  without  a  nearer 
view  of  your  face ;  when  lo,  in  the  midst  of 
my  unpleasant  cogitations  you  appeared  ready  to 
greet  us." 

"  I  am  sorry  that  you  should  have  so  suffered 
for  a  moment,  Mr.  Campbell,"  she  said  mischiev 
ously.  "  But  I  fear  if  I  had  known  your  feelings, 
I  should  have  remained  where  I  was.  Pardon 
me  if  that  is  rude,  but  really  I  only  thought  of 
Aunt  Sarah  and  her  dismay  at  the  arrival  of  com- 


154  YENSIE  WALTON. 

pany.  My  field-hours  are  generally  either  earlier 
or  later,  but  I  felt  just  like  running  wild  to-day." 

"  And  never  a  thought  of  me  or  my  feelings  ?  " 
queried  Harry,  lightly. 

"  Not  the  slightest.  I  really  didn't  see  the  pony- 
carriage  at  first.  I  admire  horse-back  riding,  and 
admit  Mr.  Gardenell  elicited  all  my  attention  from 
the  way  he  rode  his  horse." 

"  You  love  to  ride  horse-back,  Miss  Yensie  ? " 
said  Herbert  now. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  enthusiastically.  "  I  was  a  very 
little  child  when  my  father  taught  me  to  ride, 
walking  beside  my  pony.  After  I  came  here,  I 
was  obliged  either  to  ride  Janet  bare-back,  or 
Betty,  our  cow,"  laughing,  "or  go  without  my 
beloved  exercise.  As  I  practised,  all  my  spare  mo 
ments  not  employed  in  climbing  or  flower-hunt 
ing,"  with  a  glance  at  Harry,  "  I  am  quite  an 
expert.  Farmer  Glines'  boy  found  me  one  night 
years  ago,  seated  on  Janet  —  back  to  the  horse's 
head  —  and  he  told  Uncle  I  was  '  wuss  than  airy 
circus  he  had  ever  hearn  tell  on.'  Uncle  John 
loves  to  remind  me  of  it  yet." 

In  the  midst  of  the  laughter  that  followed  this 
recital  Mildred  appeared,  and  Yensie  excusing  her 
self,  led  little  Maude  away  to  prepare  her  for  her 
holiday. 

How  glad  the  maiden  was  that  her  darling 
owned  this  sweet,  white  dress,  obtained  indeed 
against  much  opposition,  by  her  own  persistent 


TENSIE  WALTON.  155 

efforts.  Even  Aunt  Sarah  was  glad  now,  as  she 
saw  her  child  arrayed  so  simply,  and  yet  tastefully 
for  this  occasion. 

The  delicate  muslin  fell  in  soft  folds  about  her 
slender,  etherial  form,  her  golden  hair  hung  in  rich 
curls  about  her  shoulders,  the  delicate,  earnest  face 
lighted  by  those  resplendent  violet  eyes,  filled  now 
with  the  light  of  joyful  anticipation.  No  gay  rib 
bon,  no  ornament.  Her  sash  was  of  the  same 
material  as  her  dress,  but  Harry  opened  his  arms 
impulsively  to  her  as  she  entered  the  parlor,  hat  in 
hand  ready  to  go. 

"  I  believe  I  was  right  in  declaring  you  quite 
an  angel,"  he  said  as  she  lifted  her  face  demurely 
for  his  kiss  ;  but  she  shook  her  head  in  indignant 
surprise  as  she  answered :  "  No,  no,  Mr.  Harry, 
angels  don't  live  here,"  and  followed  him  to  the 
door. 

The  wee  thing  allowed  herself  to  be  lifted  to 
the  carriage  and  then  insisted  that  banty  be 
wrapped  in  a  shawl  and  laid  in  her  lap,  for  she 
wouldn't  have  his  feelings  hurt  for  anything  by 
shutting  him  up  in  a  basket. 

"  You  know,  Mr.  Harry,  he'd  think  he  was  lost, 
or  blind,  or  sold  to  some  horrid  man,  and  be 
afraid ;  "  and  the  young  man  with  a  look  half- 
admiring,  half  comic,  arranged  the  little  fellow  to 
her  complete  satisfaction,  and  lifting  his  hat  to  the 
girls  at  the  door,  rode  away. 

"  You  precious  little  baggage,"  he  said,  as  reach- 


156  YENSIE   WALTON. 

ing  the  mansion  house  he  threw  his  reins  to  the 
stable-boy,  and  catching  the  child  up  in  his  arms, 
bounded  into  the  house  in  search  of  his  mother. 

"  My  little  mother,  are  you  here  ? "  he  cried, 
throwing  open  the  door  of  her  sitting-room.  "  Be 
hold  the  farm-child,"  and  he  stood  the  little  girl 
before  Mrs.  Campbell,  the  rich  blood  tinging  her 
alabaster  cheeks,  her  violet  eyes  peeping  timidly 
up  from  under  their  long,  curling,  golden-brown 
fringes,  at  the  astonished  lady. 

Harry  laughed  —  laughed  merrily,  exultantly, 
over  the  unbounded  astonishment  written  on  the 
lady's  face. 

"  Well,  my  mother,  how  is  it ;  are  you  ready  to 
admit  my  ability  to  choose  fitting  associates  for 
my  sister  ?  " 

Mrs.  Campbell  did  not  answer ;  she  was  smiling 
into  the  face  of  the  child,  who  gazed  earnestly  into 
her  eyes. 

"This  lady  is  my  mother,  Violet ;  will  you  not 
kiss  her?"  asked  Harry,  and  Mrs.  Campbell 
stooped  to  meet  the  ruby  lips  lifted  to  hers.  Just 
then,  Nettie  entering  drew  Maude  away  out  of 
the  room. 

"  Well,  mother,  how  is  it  ?  "  asked  Harry. 

"  I  am  bewildered  my  son.  She,  surely,  cannot 
belong  to  that  coarse,  red-haired  woman  I  saw 
there  as  I  passed  one  day." 

"  I  assure  you  she  does.  O,  democratic  mother 
of  mine !  I  wonder  much  at  nature's  blunder  in 


YENSIE  WALTON.  157 

Betting  yon  down  in  America.  You  have  forgot 
ten  that  '  God  has  made  of  one  blood  all  the  na 
tions  ot  the  earth/ — is  that  Scripture,  or  Declaration 
of  Independence,  I  really  don't  know?  Excuse 
me,  madam,  I  did  not  intend  to  quote  either  when 
I  began." 

"  Harry,"  said  his  mother,  nervously,  are  there 
any  young  ladies  over  there  ?" 

"  At  Valley  Farm,  do  you  mean  ?  Why,  no.  I 
don't  know  that  there  are  what  you  would  denom 
inate  such.  There  are  a  couple  of  school-girls,  not 
very  much  older  than  Puss." 

Puss,  who  had  just  come  into  the  room  in  search 
of  something,  here  interrupted : 

"  O  mamma,  you  know  the  young  girl  that  sings 
so  beautifully,  she  lives  there.  But  she  isn't  a  bit 
stuck  up,  but  plays  hide-and-seek  with  Violet — she 
says  so  —  and  tells  her  stories  she  makes  up  herself. 
She's  just  nice,  and  I  love  her." 

"  Stuck  up !  Nettie,  how  often  must  I  correct 
you  ?"  But  the  little  girl  was  gone,  not  caring  to 
hear  more,  and  the  lady  turned  to  her  son. 

There  was  an  anxious,  troubled  look  in  the  little 
woman's  eyes,  that  seemed  to  amuse  the  young 
man,  for  he  laughed  as  he  met  it.  "  Mother  dear, 
what  is  it?  "  he  said,  laying  his  hand  caressingly 
on  her  head.  "You  feel  you  cannot  trust  your 
boy  yet,  is  that  it  mother  ?  Come,  say  what  you 
will,  it  is  a  pity  if  you  may  not  speak  freely  to 
your  only  son." 


158  YENSIE  WALTON. 

"  I  was  thinking,  Harry,"  she  said,  hesitatingly, 
"  that  there  are  ladies  enough  of  your  own  rank  in 
life  here  to  keep  you  company,  without  your  tak 
ing  such  freaks  into  your  head  and  running  around 
after  girls  so  much  beneath  you." 

"  My  lady  mother,"  replied  the  young  man,  a  lit 
tle  sarcastically,"  I  did  not  know  before  that  I  had 
taken  any  such  freak,  nevertheless,  I  thank  you  for 
your  interest.  I  know  you  are  sadly  distressed  by 
your  son's  lack  of  dignity  ;  he  thanks  you  for  your 
care,  and  appreciates  it.  One  of  these  so-called 
young  ladies  is  but  a  child  just  doffing  short 
clothes,  and  very  much  impressed  with  her  own 
importance ;  too  much  so  indeed  to  admit  of  any 
body  else  sharing  it  with  her.  The  other,  who 
may  be  classed  under  the  above  head,  without 
jostling  at  all  with  my  preconceived  notions  of 
what  that  word  should  imply,  is  so  much  above 
these  bepowdered,  frizzled,  upper  crust  you  de 
nominate  my  own  rank,  as  to  deserve  the  everlast 
ing  thanks  of  mankind  in  general,  and  your  sou  in. 
particular,  who  pleads  guilty  to  a  love  of  human 
nature  as  God  made  it."  And  Harry  looking 
down  into  his  mother's  face  saw  a  far  more  troub 
led  and  perplexed  expression  there  than  when  he 
first  began. 

"  You  precious  little  woman,"  he  laughed,  "  here 
have  I  been  trying  to  enlighten  you  as  to  the 
position  of  things  with  an  eye  to  your  immediate 
relief,  and  have  only  succeeded  in  making  you 


YENSIE  WALTON.  159 

more  miserable.  Let  me  assure  you,  on  my  honor 
as  a  gentleman,  that  I  could  not  fall  in  love  with 
article  number  one  if  I  were  hanged  for  not  doing 
so  ;  have  conscientious  scruples  against  it,  as  Gard 
would  say.  As, to  number  two,  I  have  no  idea  of 
falling  in  love  with  her  or  any  other  young  lady  at 
present.  But  you  should  know  if  I  had  any  such 
desires  in  reference  to  that  young  lady  they  would 
be  quite  useless  as  she  is  hopelessly,  or,  should  I 
sa}r,  hopefully  pious,  and  not  at  all  impressed  with 
the  excellencies  of  your  son.  Indeed,  I  rather 
think  she  would  consider  it  an  impertinence  on  my 
part  to  imagine  such  a  thing.  So  be  at  ease  on  that 
score,  little  mother." 

"  Harry,  what  nonsense,"  said  his  mother 
warmly.  She  could  not  imagine  such  a  thing  as  a 
living  woman  who  would  not  feel  honored  by  the 
attentions  of  her  son.  "  Why  can't  you  be  sensi 
ble  when  talking  to  me  ?  " 

"  Upon  honor,  mother,  I  thought  I  was  ex 
tremely  so,  and  expected  your  commendations 
therefor.  I  know  no  reason  for  not  being  more 
sensible,  than  that  I  cannot  be.  I  never  was  in 
more  sober  earnest  in  my  life  than  when  I  assured 
you  that  Yensie  Walton  would  scorn  any  advances 
011  my  part.  I  assure  you,  she  receives  me  gen 
erally  with  a  coolness  suggestive  of  zero,  and  the 
hauteur  of  a  crowned  queen." 

"  Then  why  do  you  go  there  ?  "  was  the  next 
very  pertinent  question. 


160  YENSIB  'WALTON. 

"  Novelty,  novelty,  my  dear  mother.  It  is  a 
positive  luxury  to  meet  one  lady  who  does  not 
find  me  fascinating,"  with  a  curious  glance  into 
his  mother's  face  ;  "  to  be  trusted  on  a  par  with 
other  men,  a  little  below  it  if  anything,  is  a  pleas 
ant  diversion.  Are  you  satisfied  ?  " 

Her  face  answered  him  and  he  laughed,  "  Harry, 
promise  me  not  to  go  there  again." 

"  I  should  like  to  oblige  you,  mother,  but  can't, 
positive^.  Have  only  got  to  the  place  where  I 
feel  free  to  go,"  answered  the  young  man. 

"  Then  promise  me  to  go  only  when  Mr.  Gard- 
enell  accompanies  you." 

"  O,  mother,  have  I  so  utterly  forfeited  your 
confidence  ?  Can  you  never  trust  me  again  ?  "  and 
Harry  bent  his  fine  eyes  with  a  sad,  questioning 
look  on  his  mother's  face.  His  brow  was  clouded 
for  a  moment,  as  he  walked  to  the  window,  but 
when  he  came  back  and  stooped  to  kiss  her  the 
old,  careless  expression  had  taken  its  place. 

"  I  am  a  sad  boy,  but  you  must  learn  to  trust 
me,"  he  said,  decidedly.  Then  smiling  he  added 
almost  gravely,  "  I  shall  never  forget  that  I  am 
the  son  of  a  lady  —  nay,  more,  a  woman ;  and  lit 
tle  mother,  you  must  never  expect  to  blush  for 
your  son  again,"  and  he  left  the  room. 

This  was  altogether  a  delightful  day  to  little 
Maude  —  a  day  with  flowers,  and  birds,  and 
beautiful  dolls,  such  as  she  had  never  dreamed  of; 
and  the  last  touch  of  delight  was  added  when 


YENSES  WALTON.  161 

Harry  joined  the  children  in.  eating  supper  from  a 
tiny  baby  tea-set  in  the  nursery. 

"  It's  almost,  '  Violet's  hour,' "  said  Maude, 
touching  the  young  man's  arm  toward  evening. 
"Ennie,  won't  know  how  to  get  along  without  me. 
Please  take  me  home  Mr.  Harry." 

They  were  out  on  the  lawn  amid  the  guests, 
and  stooping  and  opening  his  arms  to  her  he 
whispered,  "  How  shall  I  get  on  without  you  ?  " 

Maude  flung  her  arms  about  his  neck  and  nest 
led  her  golden  head  on  his  shoulder  patting  his 
cheek  with  her  tiny  hand  as  she  answered,  "  you 
know  Ennie  always  had  me,  and  you  haven't,  so 
you  can  get  along  best,  but  I  love  you  very 
much." 

Harry  kissed  her.  "Little  Violet,"  he  whis 
pered,  "I  wish  I  was  like  you,  so  sweet  and  pure, 
and  innocent,  indeed  I  do,"  and  his  voice  trem 
bled. 

The  little  hand  was  in  his  dark  curls  now,  "  I 
love  you  very  much,  and  }'-ou  are  very  good  to 
me,''  she  said.  "  Jesus  loves  you  too,  I  know  he 
does." 

"  I  wish  I  felt  as  sure  of  that  as  you  seem  to 
be,"  he  said  gravely,  and  looking  up  met  the  half- 
pleased,  half-troubled  gaze  of  his  mother. 

The  ladies  were  talking  of  him  though  he  was 
unconscious  of  their  comments. 

"  You  never  looked  so  handsome  in  your  life, 
Mr.  Campbell,"  said  Miss  Simpson  now  as  he  ap- 


1C2  YBNSIB  WALTON. 

proaclied  —  Maude    still    nestled    to    his    breast. 

"  Thank  you,"  he  answered,  laughing,  "  mother 
dear,"  stooping  until  his  dark  curls  swept  the 
lady's  face,  "mother  dear,  don't  worry.  I  never 
feel  myself  so  much  a  sinner,  or  wish  myself  so 
much  a  saint,  as  when  these  little  arms  cling  to  my 
neek.  I  wish  she  was  my  very  own,  I  do ;  "  arid 
lifting  himself  suddenly,  he  swung  the  little  one 
up  to  his  shoulder  and  calling  to  Nettie  to  catch 
him  darted  down  the  path. 

What  a  merry  race  they  had.  Nettie  called 
Herbert  to  help  her.  Several  others  joined,  and 
soon  the  lawn  resounded  with  their  mirth,  Mrs. 
Campbell  looking  on  half-vexed,  half-admiring 
as  her  handsome  boy  darted  hither  and  thither 
eluding  just  at  the  right  moment  the  grasp  of  his 
laughing  pursuers. 

"  There,  I'm  tired,"  at  last  cried  the  young  man, 
depositing  the  little  lady  on  the  seat  beside  his 
mother.  And  stretching  himself  on  the  grass  he 
rested  his  head  in  her  lap  looking  up  into  her  vio 
let  eyes. 

"  Mother  is  that  heaven  ?  "  he  asked ;  but  it  was 
Herbert's  voice  which  answered  him.  "•  Not 
heaven  but  heavenly,  Harry,"  and  he  added  in 
Maude's  own  words  that  morning,  "  Angels  do  not 
live  here." 

A  silence  fell  on  the  group  for  a  little,  then 
Harry  caught  Maude's  wistful  eyes. 

"  Yes,  Violet,"  he  said,  answering  their  question- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  163 

ing,  "  I  did  not  mean  to  disregard  your  wish,  only 
to  postpone  it  a  little,  I  do  not  have  you  often." 
Then  rising,  with  a  comical  glance  at  his  mother, 
he  added,  "  now  I  will  take  you  home  to  Ennie. 
Puss,  go  get  me  a  shawl  please,  the  air  is  growing 
diimp,  and  we  must  be  careful  of  this  baby.  You 
see  I'm  thinking  of  your  advice  Gard,  who  knows, 
I  may  take  to  blue  pills  and  arsenic  yet." 

When  the  carriage  was  ready,  Mrs.  Campbell's 
own  hands  wrapped  up  the  little  one,  her  lips 
kissed  the  white  brow,  but  she  was  careful  that 
Nettie  should  ride  over  with  them. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 


1 1  gazed  upon  a  youthful  face, 
Radiant  with  intellectual  grace, 
I  saw  one  dark  and  sparkling  eye, 
Shrink  even  as  my  glance  came  by." 


IME    passed    rapidly,   August    was    gone, 
September  opened. 

jn  one  way  or  another,  Herbert  had  con 
trived  to  see  much  of  the  maiden  who  interested 
him  so  strangely. 

He  began  to  know  which  afternoons  she  gener 
ally  visited  Miss  Grey,  and  she  was  very  sure  to 
meet  him  just  as  she  turned  the  lane  which  led 
the  other  side  of  the  mansion  house  or  farther  on 
where  the  two  roads  met.  Then,  too,  his  business 
in  the  village  delayed  him  about  as  long  as  her 
visit  and  they  walked  home  together. 

All  this  the  young  girl   supposed  to  be  purely 
accidental,  and  without  much  thought  as  to  why, 
164 


YENSIE  WALTON.  165 

she  began  to  feel  disappointed  if  she  did  not  meet 
him  on  her  road  to  and  from  Miss  Grey's. 

The  clouded  skies,  the  flowery  paths,  the  sing 
ing  birds,  all  gave  them  food  for  conversation,  and 
they  began  to  know  each  other's  tastes,  likenesses 
and  differences  on  many  subjects.  They  did  not 
think  just  alike  on  many  things  and  yet  their  very 
differences  drew  them  together,  spicing  their  con 
versation  and  carrying  them  further  to  sea,  and 
therefore  into  larger  view  of  each  other. 

Herbert  unmistakably  found  Yensie  a  delight 
ful  companion,  and  Yensie  grew  profoundly  im 
pressed  with  the  capability,  heart  and  brain,  of  the 
young  student.  Harry,  no  doubt,  would  have 
called  many  of  their  talks  very  dry  and  rallied  his 
friend  about  sermonizing  to  young  ladies,  but  nei 
ther  of  the  two  ever  dreamed  of  sermons,  though 
they  did  find  themselves  sometimes  dreaming  of 
each  other. 

Yensie  was  almost  shy  in  the  presence  of  the 
young  man,  blushing  rosily  at  his  slightest  glance, 
veiling  her  eyes  as  if-  she  feared  to  meet  it ;  but  it 
did  not  trouble  Herbert  particularly,  that  she 
spoke,  more  lightly  or  freely  with  his  friend,  and 
met  his  glance  fearlessly.  Indeed,  he  began  to 
relish  the  half-confusion  of  her  face  when  she 
found  him  watching  her,  and  to  smile  quite  as 
roguishly  as  Harry's  self  over  her  blushes. 

Several  times  he  had  ventured  to  the  farm-house 
with  some  rare  wild-flower  he  had  heard  her  name, 


166  YENSIE  WALTON. 

and  lingered  a  little  with  her  over  her  flower-bed 
telling  her  of  his  mother's  garden,  or  describing 
some  plant  with  which  she  was  not  acquainted 
though  others  of  its  gems  were  found  in  her  little 
plot.  Once  on  coming  thus  he  found  her  arrayed 
for  a  walk  and  together  they  had  spent  the  entire 
afternoon  rambling. 

That  day  he  told  her  of  his  return  to  school, 
shortly,  and  watched  to  see  how  she  would  receive 
the  news.  He  would  have  been  disappointed  if 
she  had  made  any  wild  lamentation  or  said  she 
was  "very,  very  sorry,"  but  he  was  not  disap 
pointed  in  the  little  start  she  gave  or  the  quick 
glance  she  shot  out  from  her  eyes  into  his  face. 

Her  first  words  were  so  like  her,  he  smiled. 
"You  will  be  so  glad  Mr.  Gardenell  to  begin 
study  again.  I  know  you  must  be  anxious  to 
commence  your  life-work." 

They  were  standing  at  the  gate,  she  about  to  go 
in,  as  this  was  said.  "  Yes,"  he  replied,  "  I  have  a 
blessed  work  ahead  of  me.  I  shall  study  better 
Miss  Yensie,  if  I  know  you  are  praying  for  me."  I 
wonder  if  he  had  an  object  in  securing  a  place  in 
her  prayers,  how  we  always  love  those  for  whom 
we  pray ;  how  we  doubly  love  those  dear  before 
when  they  are  sharers  of  our  hours  with  God. 

A  few  days  more,  and  Herbert  was  gone.  Then 
all  Wynn  took  on  sackcloth  unaccountably  to  the 
maiden,  and  she  discovered  the  birds  sang  less 
sweetly,  and  the  walk  to  Alice  Grey's  grew 


YENSIE   WALTON.  167 

longer,  and  life  was  strangely  dull  for  a  while. 

After  Herbert's  departure,  Harry  came  to  the 
farm-house  oftener.  First  one  reason  and  then 
another  he  found  to  bring  him  there,  and  always 
an  unanswerable  one. 

Just  now  Uncle  Robinson  was  to  have  a  large 
party  from  the  city,  and  needed  a  supply  of  black 
berries  and  as  none  he  had  seen  equalled  Mr.  Wal 
ton's,  he  had  sent  him  to  secure  a  lot.  Aunt 
Sarah  was  radiant  with  delight.  The  blackberries 
were  uncommon  and  she  readily  consented  to  sup 
ply  them,  and  then  of  course  Harry  came  over  to 
help  the  girls  pick  them,  and  Yensie  treated  him 
very  coolly  while  Miss  Mildred  praised  the  dexter 
ity  and  rapidity  with  which  he  worked. 

There  had  been  a  battle  fought  at  Vajley  Farm 
about  Yensie's  going  to  school  that  winter,  for 
Uncle  John  had  been  slow  to  yield  to  her  entreat 
ies,  to  wait  until  spring  before  beginning  again. 

"  Are  you  sick,  Yensie  ?  "  he  asked  kindly  ;  but 
she  answered  frankly,  "  I  was  never  better." 

"  Then  I  don't  understand  it ;  you  always  were 
anxious  to  learn.  I  should  like  you  to  get  all  you 
want  for  your  own  sake." 

"  I  never  shall  sir,"  was  the  reply.  "  Never  in 
this  world." 

"  Well,  you  know  what  I  mean,"  he  answered, 
good-naturedly.  "  I  should  feel  better  to  know  I 
had  done  as  I  agreed  to  by  you,  before  it  might  be 
impossible." 


168  YENSIE  WALTON. 

Yensie  looked  up  quickly  into  his  face.  "  Uncle 
John,  I  can't  go ;"  and  Uncle  John  was  vexed. 

"  I  hope,  Yensie,  it  isn't  any  notion  you  have  of 
that  young  Campbell  ?  He's  a  nice  fellow,  but 
you  are  very  young  and "  —  but  Yensie  stopped 
him,  indignantly. 

"  You  know  better ! "  she  said  imperiously. 
"  What  is  Harry  Campbell  to  me  ?  No,  uncle,  if 
you  must  know,  I  must  stay  with  Maude  while  she 
is  here." 

"  Why,  girl,  what  do  you  mean,"  cried  the  start 
led  man.  "  Maude  ain't  sick,  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  tired  all  the  time,"  said  the  girl,  eva 
sively. 

"  She's  growing,"  said  Mr.  Walton. 

"  Yes,  heavenward,"  Yensie  replied  tears  spring 
ing  to  her  eyes.  "  I've  talked  to  Aunt  Sarah  in 
vain,  and  now  you  can't  see  anything  uncommon 
about  her.  But  I  can.  She  will  not  be  here  next 
spring ;  she  knows  it  and  I  know  it,"  and  here 
Yensie  began  to  sob  quietly. 

"'Tut,  tut,  I  won't  believe  it.  You  are  nervous 
Yensie." 

"  Perhaps  I  am  ;  we  will  see,"  she  replied,  dry 
ing  her  eyes,  "  but  I  shall  not  go  to  school  this 
winter  if  I  never  go  again ; "  and  her  uncle  said  no 
more. 

But  Mr.  Walton  began  to  watch  Violet  and  he 
feared  his  niece  was  right.  He  noticed  that  she 
played  less,  wanted  to  lay  down  more,  was  found 


YENSFR   WALTON.  169 

often  lying  on  the  lounge  with  a  book,  something 
unusual,  and  .he  spoke  to  his  wife. 

"  You're  just  like  Yensie,  always  imagining 
something.  I'm  an  old  nurse  and  used  to  sickness 
and  see  no  cause  to  worry.  A  mother  will  see  if 
anybody."  But  though  she  thus  spoke,  Mrs.  Wal 
ton  grew  more  careful,  and  began  to  dose  the 
child  with  medicines  having  untold  virtues,  all 
concocted  by  her  own  hand,  much  to  little  Violet's 
distress,  for  she  could  not  bear  those  mixtures 
though  she  took  them  unmurmuringly. 

Some  days  she  seemed  much  better,  and  her 
father  began  to  hope,  but  Yensie  never.  Way 
down  in  her  heart  was  the  settled  conviction  that 
God  had  called  for  her  darling,  and  though  she 
put  her  aching  heart  one  side  and  played  and  sang 
with  the  child  as  usual,  there  were  hours  when 
alone  with  God  she  struggled  to  be  reconciled  and 
say  from  out  the  deepest  depths  of  her  heart, 
"  Thy  will  be  done." 

Alice  Grey  had  resumed  her  teaching  and  Yensie 
spent  two  hours  a  week  with  her  reviewing  old 
lessons.  With  Mr.  Goodale  she  studied  Greek. 
In  these  dear  friends  she  found  her  great  delight,  for 
somehow  lately  Aunt  Sally  had  grown  more  peev 
ish.  Whether  anxiety  for  Maude  made  her  more 
exacting,  or  whether  she  feared  Yensie  might 
stand  in  Mildred's  light  in  regard  to  Harry  Camp 
bell,  was  not  clear ;  but  one  thing  was  certain,  she 
was  exceedingly  hard  to  live  with,  and  Yensie 


170  YENSLE  WALTON 

found  herself  answering  her  sometimes  very  much 
after  the  olden  fashion. 

It  seemed  so  ridiculous  to  her  that  Mrs.  Walton 
should  dream  that  Harry  sought  Milly  ;  and  so  ex 
tremely  indelicate  to  speak  of  it  to  her  daughter, 
little  child  as  she  was.  But  Mildred  was  large  of 
her  age,  "  forward,"  as  her  mother  too  truly 
expressed  it,  and  Sarah  Walton  was  very  anxious 
she  should  settle  well.  All  her  maternal  love  and 
pride  seemed  centered  in  this  child,  and  she  talked 
with  her  of  her  prospects  (which  meant  marrying 
a  fortune)  as  we  hope  few  mothers  would  dare 
to  do. 

Yensie  loved  music  and  music  loved  her,  and 
seemed  to  have  taken  up  a  dwelling-place  within 
her.  She  was  conscious  of  great  thoughts  and 
impulses  stirring  within  her  soul,  and  they  voiced 
themselves  somehow  in  this  way. 

Often  in  her  solitary  hours,  or  hours  spent  with 
Violet,  these  feelings  found  expression  in  strains 
wild,  lofty,  sublime,  or  tender  as  her  mood  might 
be.  Strains  which  stirred  the  soul  of  her  single 
auditor  sometimes  with  real  fear  and  shrinking, 
from  that  with  which  she  had  no  sympathy,  at 
other  times  causing  her  to  nestle  still  closer  to  the 
loving  heart  of  her  cousin,  looking  up  with  that 
strange,  shadowy  light  in  her  eyes  which  Yensie 
had  learned  to  dread. 

At  these    times    Yensie    improvised  words  to 


YENSIE  WALTON.  171 

express  the  thought  thus  struggling  for  utterance, 
and  "Violet's  hour,"  as  they  called  Maude's  bed 
time,  the  hour  between  day  and  night,  grew  to  be 
the  best  prized  time  that  all  the  weeks  and  months 
brought  her. 

Somehow  the  gorgeous,  crimson  sunset,  the  soft- 
tinted,  fleecy-clouded,  tender  twilight,  opened  to 
the  maiden  the  very  gates  of  heaven ;  and  then 
she  caught  glimpses  of  the  inner  glory  which 
moved  the  profoundest  depths  of  her  soul.  She 
learned  to  linger  on  the  border  line  between  the 
day  well  known,  because  just  past,  and  the  coming 
evening  with  its  untold  history,  somewhat  as  we 
halt  before  death,  the  border  line  between  this 
world  we  know  so  well,  and  that  as  real,  yet  un 
known,  unseen  Somewhere  to  which  we  all  are 
hastening. 

On  one  of  these  occasions  when  Yensie  had 
sung  hymn  after  hymn  to  the  white-robed  listener 
oil  her  lap,  she  wandered  into  the  mist  of  her 
own  musings,  as  if  that  which  she  had  sung  sug 
gested  to  her  a  greater  something  she  could  not 
voice. 

Suddenly  she  began  to  sing  again,  suiting  the 
words  and  music,  and  Violet  with  earnest,  uplifted 
eyes  crept  closer  to  her  bosom,  not  fully  understand 
ing,  yet  awed  and  raptured  with  the  brooding  ten 
derness,  and  longing  unutterable  in  voice  and  face. 


172  YENSIE   WALTON. 


YENSIE'S    SONG. 

I  cannot  sing  the  song  I  would, 

It  falters  on  my  tongue, 
I  lose  its  rapturous  numbers 

Ere  its  key-note  is  begun. 
My  spirit  pants  for  utterance, 

It  cannot,  dare  not  try, 
Earth's  language  is  too  feeble 

To  express  soul  minstrelsy. 

Eternity  !  Eternity ! 

Perhaps  thy  voice  will  break 
The  silence  brooding  o'er  the  soul, 

And  bid  her  songs  awake. 
Dumb  spirit-tongue  then  loosened, 

A  God-taught  speech  its  own, 
Will  swell  its  earth-born  soul-songu 

First  at  the  Father's  throne. 

Till  then,  dumb  soul,  be  quiet, 

Clay,  clogs  thy  rapid  rate, 
Until  the  voice  divinest 

Shall  bid  to  death's  lone  gate; 
Then  shout  —  death  robs  not  spirit! 

"  Death  only  feeds  on  death," 
The  land-lines  which  so  bind  thee, 

Are  cut  with  thy  last  breath. 

For  I  —  I  am  immortal  ! 

Life,  death,  soul,  tell  me  so; 
God-breathings  do  not  perish 

In  mortal  throb  and  throe. 
Infinitudes  within  me 

Are  struggling  for  control, 
The  shadows  of  Infinity 

Upon  my  waiting  soul. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  173 

"  Ennie,"  whispered  the  little  one.  when  she 
had  done  ;  "  Ennie,  what  is  it  ?  " 

"  What  is  what,  my  darling  ?  "  asked  the  girl. 

"  That  you  sang  ?     Where  did  you  get  it  ?  " 

"  That.  O  Violet,  it  is  only  a  few  dream-drop 
pings,"  as  she  bowed  her  head  and  kissed  the 
sweet,  upturned  face. 

"  Dream-droppings,"  mused  Maude.  "  Ennie,  do 
your  dreams  drop  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sometimes,  my  waking  ones  do." 

Maude  sat  quite  still  thinking  awhile,  then 
she  said  suddenly,  "I  like  the  drops  Ennie.  I 
don't  understand  them,  but  I  like  them ;  the 
dreams  must  be  very  sweet." 

Yensie  did  not  answer  at  first,  she  could  not, 
but  she  gathered  the  slight  form  very  close  to  her 
bosom  and  by  and  by  she  whispered :  "  You  will 
soon  be  beyond  the  dreams  into  reality,  Violet, 
then  think  of  Ennie,  poor  Ennie,  stumbling  along 
in  the  dark,  while  her  darling  basks  in  purest  sun 
shine.  O,  Maude,  it  is  selfish  to  be  sorry!  I  would 
be  glad,  indeed  I  would,  if  only  the  darkness 
would  not  quite  be  midnight,  as  I  fear  it  will, 
without  you,"  and  the  little  one  felt  hot  tears 
falling  on  her  golden  curls. 

In  a  little  while  Violet  whispered,  "  When  the 
angels  come  for  me,  I  want  you  to  listen  to  their 
song.5' 

Yensie  clasped  her  a  little  closer  while  she 
questioned,  "  Why  love  ?  " 


174  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  So  you  will  know  that  I  am  going  to  better 
things ;  so  you  can  catch  a  little  bit  of  the  glory 
Ennie." 

"I'll  listen,  Maude;  I'll  do  anything  for  you. 
Anything  to  learn  more  of  heaven.  It  will  be 
dearer  than  ever  with  you  there  my  darling,  and  I 
shall  study  its  wonders  as  I  do  those  of  no  other 
land  when  once  its  gates  close  after  you." 

But  from  that  simple  request  of  Violet,  rose 
Yensie's  "  sweetest  dream-drop,"  as  Maude  called 
it.  And  as  they  sat  together  in  the  lengthen 
ing  shadows,  the  twilight  time  so  much  prized, 
shortening  perceptibly  with  the  advancing  season, 
Yensie  sang  it  often  to  the  little  one  whose  days 
were  also  shortening  as  death's  winter  hastened 
on  ;  drawing  near  arid  still  nearer  to  its  glorious 
sunset,  or  shall  we  say  sun-rising,  the  entering  in 
to  endless  day. 

And  one  unconsciously,  straining  her  eyes  to 
catch  the  coming  light,  let  slip  and  quite  forgot 
the  night  of  pain  between ;  while  the  other  con 
sciously  entered  Gethsemane  —  the  garden  before 
death  —  with  praying  lips  and  fainting  heart,  cry 
ing  with  Him  who  trod  its  paths  before,  "  If  it  be 
possible  let  this  cup  pass  from  me,"  while  certain 
it  must  be  drained.  She  thanked  God  for  a  res 
pite  passed  in  such  a  spot  'mid  summer  bloom  and 
sweetness,  yet  it  could  not  lull  her  to  forgetful- 
ness  and  sleep,  as  once  it  did  His  disciples,  she  felt 
so  certain  of  that  lonely  walk  ahead. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


"  Nature  held  us  forth  and  said, '  Lo !  my  thoughts  are  white.'  " 


|NE  day  Harry  made  his  appearance  at 
the  farm-house,  ostensibly  to  take  Maude 
for  a  ride,  in  reality  to  enjoy  Yensie's  so 
ciety  for  awhile,  for  this  girl  wonderfully  attracted 
the  young  man.  But  Yensie  had  no  idea  of  going 
with  him. 

It  would  be  very  pleasant  indeed  she  admitted 
to  drive  out  this  pleasant  afternoon.  The  sky  was 
cloudless,  the  equipage  and  attendant  everything 
that  taste  most  fastidious  could  require  —  for 
when  is  woman  ever  indifferent  to  a  handsome, 
well-dressed  man  —  but  she  appreciated  the  dif 
ference  in  their  social  standing  while  she  dis 
dained  it. 

175 


176  YENSIE   WALTON. 

She  had  looked  on  in  undisguised  contempt  at 
the  attempts  of  her  aunt  and  cousin  to  catch  this 
young  desirable.  She  would  none  of  it !  He 
should  understand  his  wealth  and  position  added 
nothing  to  his  weight  in  her  estimation ;  that  out 
of  her  poverty  she  felt  herself  his  equal  and  asked 
none  of  his  condescension. 

In  her  indignation  she  was  unjust  to  Harry,  for 
getting  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  man 
oeuvring  of  her  relatives  and  had  given  no  occasion 
for  it ;  while  he  had  always  acted  as  if  unaware  he 
stood  socially  above  them. 

If  Yensie  had  intended  really  to  captivate  this 
young  gentleman,  she  could  hardly  have  taken  a 
better  way  ;  for  every  assumption  of  pride  or  cool 
ness  on  her  part,  increased  his  interest  in  her,  and 
made  him  more  determined  to  win  her  friendship. 
It  was  indeed  as  he  had  said  to  his  mother,  altogether 
a  new  experience  with  him  to  have  a  young  lady 
receive  him  thus,  and  he  pursued  the  acquaintance 
with  even  increasing  ardor. 

His  disappointment  was  very  apparent  this  af 
ternoon.  He  was  angry  with  himself  afterwards 
to  think  he  pressed  her  so,  and  recalled  her  quiet 
decision  with  a  mixture  of  amusement  and  chagrin 
that  added  fuel  to  the  flame  beginning  to  blaze 
within  his  soul.  He  called  himself  a  fool  rcp-eat- 
edly  to  let  such  a  thing  trouble  him,  yet  tho  cir 
cumstance  kept  recurring  to  his  mind  with  Any 
thing  but  a  soothing  effect. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  177 

He  lifted  the  troubled  little  Violet,  who  had 
used  her  persuasive  power  in  vain,  to  her  seat 
smilingly  however,  bowed  low  to  Mrs.  Walton  and 
Yensie,  looking  back  and  waving  his  hand,  and 
left  the  girl  feeling  very  much  as  if  she  had  made 
a  fool  of  herself  after  all,  and  assumed  a  position 
very  unnecessary  as  things  stood. 

"  I  don't  see,  Yensie,  why  you  couldn't  have 
gone  with  Mr.  Campbell  just  as  well  as  not,  seeing 
Mildred  was  not  here  to  go,"  said  her  aunt. 

And  Yensie  snapped  out,  "  Oh,  you  don't  in 
deed,  well  I  shall  feel  quite  as  well  if  you  don't ! 
If  you  and  Milly  want  to  act  the  fool  pray  don't 
ask  me  to  help  you !  "  and  she  whisked  out  of  the 
room  in  anything  but  an  amiable  mood,  riot  know 
ing  exactly  who  she  ought  to  be  most  provoked 
with,  Aunt  Sally,  herself,  or  Harry  Campbell. 

Meanwhile  little  demure  Maude  was  studying 
the  handsome,  vexed  face  beside  her,  wondering  if 
his  feelings  had  been  hurt. 

"Mr.  Harry,"  she  said  at  last,  timidly,  "there 
are  some  buful  flowers  by  the  road." 

u  Why,  so  there  are,"  said  Harry,  gayly,  for  the 
first  time  noticing  the  troubled  little  face ;  "  and 
you'd  like  to  have  them,  is  that  it,  Puss  ?  Well,  I 
can  get  them  for  you  and  you  may  hold  the  reins, 
won't  that  be  nice  ?  You  need  not  be  a  bit  afraid, 
for  Ned  is  a  gentleman,  and  always  behaves  his 
best  when  little  ladies  are  aboard."  So  saying  the 
young  man  placed  the  reins  in  the  tiny  hands, 


178  YENSIE  WALTON. 

and   sprang   out   to   gather   the   road-side   bloom. 

In  a  few  minutes  he  was  beside  her  again,  the 
flowers  in  her  hands  and  her  smiling  eyes  looking 
into  his.  "  You  are  very  nice,"  she  said,  "  and  I 
love  you,"  with  great  emphasis  on  the  personal 
pronoun.  "  Does  it  make  you  feel  very  bad  to 
have  Ennie  act  so  ?  Do  you  love  her  very  much, 
Mr.  Harry  ?  " 

The  sweet,  earnest  sympathy  her  voice  expressed 
is  simply  impossible  to  describe.  Harry  felt  him 
self  moved  wonderfully,  for  while  he  could  not 
restrain  a  laugh  at  its  comic  side,  his  eyes  filled 
with  tears  as  he  stooped  and  kissed  the  sweet  lips 
that  had  asked  so  strange  a  question. 

"  You  are  a  funny  little  Puss,"  he  said.  "  Who 
told  you  I  loved  Ennie  at  all  ?  " 

"  But  you  do,  don't,  you  ?  "  as  if  the  contrary 
were  impossible.  "  Oh  yes,  I  know  you  do  —  every 
body  does  that's  good  ;  but  I  thought  perhaps  you 
loved  her  lots,  because  you  looked  so  troubled 
when  she  said,  '  no.'  Do  you  like  no,  Mr.  Harry  ? 
I  don't  very  well,  though  Ennie  says  it's  a  grand 
word  when  rightly  used,  and  takes  great  cour 
age  to  utter  it  sometimes  though  it  is  so  small. 
It's  one  of  our  little-bigs." 

"Is  it  ? "  said  Harry,  interested.  "  What  is 
another?  " 

"  Be,"  she  answered.  "  Ennie  says  to  be  is 
greater  than  to  seem." 

"  Isn't  love  one  ?  "  asked  Harry. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  179 

"  Yes,  with  I  before  it.  I  used  to  think  '  I ' 
was  too  small  to  be  a  little-big,  only  one  letter  you 
know,  but  Ennie  says  it  is  a  numeral  not  a  cipher, 
because  it  stands  for  self,  and  if  put  before  love, 
or  will,  or  do,  or  think,  or  most  anything,  gives 
them  a  value  that  they  would  not  have  without  it, 
just  as  the  figures  before  the  cipher.  You  know 
all  about  that,  don't  you,  Mr.  Harry  ?  " 

"  What  ?  "  questioned  Harry.  "  The  figures 
and  ciphers?  Oh,  yes,  but  the  other  I  never 
thought  of  until  now.  There  are  some  very  bad 
little-bigs,  did  you  know  it,  Puss?  and  some  I 
don't  like  are  never,  and  did  not." 

"  They  are  not  always  bad,  Mr.  Harry ;  they  are 
good  when  put  before  evil  or  sin.  Ennie  says  we 
must  decide  ourselves  whether  the  little-bigs  shall 
mean  good  or  evil  to  us.  And  I  said,  O  Ennie, 
love  is  always  a  good  little-big,  isn't  it  ?  and  she 
only  said,  'I  love  God,  I  love  heaven ; '  and 
then,  'I  love  sin,  I  love  whiskey;'  and  then  I 
knew  it  wasn't  always,  and  I  felt  so  sorry.  Then 
Ennie  said :  '  don't  look  so  sad,  little  Violet,  love 
ought  always  to  be  good  and  bad  men  ought  never 
to  use  it,  for  the  Bible  says,  '  Grod  is  love  '  and  if 
He  is  love,  love  is  always  good,  only  sometimes  it 
falls  on  the  evil,  and  sin  is  so  terrible  it  can  soil 
anything,  even  love.  I  didn't  quite  understand 
that,  Mr.  Harry.  We  were  standing  in  the  yard,  so 
Eunie  took  my  hand  and  dipped  it  in  some  muddy 
water  arid  she  said  :  '  Is  your  hand  white  Maude  ? ' 


180  YENSIE  WALTON. 

and  I  said,  yes  it  is,  only  it's  soiled  now.  And 
then  she  said,  '  by  dipping  it  in  the  muddy  water 
the  little  hand  looks  dirty,  but  it  is  a  white  hand, 
and  pure  water  will  make  it  look  so  again ;  and  so, 
darling,  love  is  good,  but  it  falls  on  evil  and  looks 
black,  or  soiled,  but  when  it  touches  purity  again 
it  shows  that  its  nature  is  white.'  Have  I  made  it 
plain,  Mr.  Harry  ?  "  she  added  with  the  air  of  an 
old  instructress. 

"  Yes,  very.  I  think  you  must  have  an  excel 
lent  teacher,"  he  said. 

Her  face  blossomed  into  joy.  "  Oh,  yes,  Ennie 
is  just  the  very  best  Ennie  that  ever  lived,  and  I 
think  she  knows  most  everything.  Don't  you?" 
Then  not  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  That  is  wh}^  I 
felt  so  sorry  she  should  hurt  you.  She  wouldn't 
like  to  do  it,  I  am  sure,  if  she  knew." 

"  Set  yourself  at  rest  Puss,  Ennie  hasn't  killed 
me.  She  is  a  very  proud,  naughty  girl  sometimes, 
but  I  don't  blame  you  for  loving  her,  a  bit," 
laughed  Harry  ;  and  perhaps  it  was  the  laugh  that 
reconciled  Miss  Violet  to  any  such  opinion  of  her 
cousin. 

"  Now  little  one,"  proceeded  Harry,  seeing  you 
have  given  me  the  first  lesson  of  the  course,  sup 
pose  you  take  a  vacation.  See  what's  here,"  and 
out  from  under  the  seat  he  drew  a  basket  of  deli 
cious  fruit  and  placed  it  beside  her. 

The  deep  blue  eyes  were  raised  to  his  with  such 
evident  delight  that  he  felt  pleased,  though  it  had 


YENSIE  WALTON.  181 

been  selected  expressly  for  the  young  lady  at 
home. 

"  You  are  so  good,  Mr.  Harry,"  she  said,  smil 
ing. 

"  Thank  you.  That  comes  with  all  the  fresh 
ness  of  a  revelation.  Nobody  ever  made  such  a 
mistake  before  as  to  call  me  good,"  said  Harry. 

"  But  you  are,  aren't  you  ?  "  persisted  the  child. 
"  I  wish  I  could  pay  you  somehow  for  all  your 
goodness  to  me." 

Harry  smiled.  "  You  precious  child,"  he  said, 
"  Mr.  Harry  loves  to  make  you  happy  in  these  lit 
tle  ways,  and  does  not  want  pay." 

"  I  know  that,"  she  said,  .gratefully,  but  I  want 
to  just  the  same,  Mr.  Harry ; "  and  she  nestled 
close  to  him  and  pressed  her  golden  head  on  his 
arm.  "  Mr.  Harry,"  assuming  that  confidential 
whisper  she  always  used  in  speaking  of  her  de 
parture,  "  I  am  going  soon  to  Jesus.  I  thought  if 
you  would  like  to  send  some  message  to  him,  I'd 
be  so  glad  to  take  it.  Anything  at  all  Mr.  Harry. 
I  suppose  He's  your  friend." 

Harry  Campbell  was  never  so  moved  in  his  life. 
Great  tears  were  welling  to  his  eyes  and  he  turned 
them  from  the  earnest  gaze  fixed  upon  him  as  he 
strove  for  mastery  over  his  voice. 

"  Don't  you  love  Him,  Mr.  Harry  ?  "  asked  the 
winning  voice,  and  looking  down  he  met  the  wist 
ful  questioning  of  those  violet  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  do  love  him  ?  "  the  little,  white  hand, 


182  YENSIE   WALTON. 

the  slender,  waxen  hand  was  on  his  own  and  he 
shivered  at  the  touch. 

"  I  don't  know  little  Violet,"  he  said,  trying  to 
speak  unconcernedly,  "  I  suppose  He's  a  friend  to 
every  miserable  scamp  that  walks  this  earth.  I 
fear  I'm  but  a  poor  sinner  after  all." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  answered  eagerly,  "  we  are  all 
sinners.  Ennie  says  the  only  difference  is,  some 
are  saved  sinners  and  some  sinners  unsaved.  Mr. 
Harry,  are  you  a  saved  sinner  ?  " 

"  I  fear  not."  Strange,  but  this  child  was  prob 
ing  his  heart  as  no  other  ever  had. 

"  Then  don't  you  think  you  had  better  give  me 
your  name  to  carry  to  Jesus  to  put  with  the  saved 
ones  ?  If  you  want  me  to,  I'll  tell  Him  you  wish 
to  have  it  there,  shall  I  ?  " 

"  Tell  Him  anything  little  Maude,  anything, 
only  please  don't  say  any  more  now.  I  can't  bear 
to  lose  my  little  friend  so  soon,"  said  Harry. 
Then  assuming  his  usual  gayety  he  added  :  "  You 
have  forgotten  your  fruit  altogether,  Violet ;  look 
at  this  golden  pear,"  and  for  the  rest  of  their  ride 
he  was  very  careful  to  keep  her  from  reverting  to 
the  same  theme. 

On  their  way  homeward  they  met  Mildred. 
Harry  stopped  immediately  and  took  her  in,  with 
a  certain  gleam  in  his  eye. 

Did  he  think  this  would  chagrin  the  one  at 
home  ?  possibly ;  if  so  he  saw  no  sign  to  prove  he 
had  succeeded,  for  Yensie,  busy  over  her  flowei- 


YENSIE   WALTON.  183 

bed  lifted  her  regal  head  without  a  shimmer  of 
surprise  in  her  flashing  eyes,  as  they  drove  up  the 
gravelled  walk,  though  she  felt  a  mysterious  some 
thing  tugging  away  in  her  breast. 

Was  it  all  surprise  ?  or  part  jealousy  ?  She  did 
not  answer  this,  but  she  concealed  every  trace  of 
it  and  went  to  greet  them  with  a  quiet  politeness, 
which  only  gave  way  to  Violet's  impetuous  greet 
ing  :  "  O,  Ennie,  if  you'd  only  been  there." 

Harry  departed  with  Violet's  whispered  "  I'll 
tell  Him,"  ringing  in  his  ear,  her  kiss  on  his  cheek 
and  in  his  eye  the  picture  of  that  slight,  calico-clad 
figure  with  shapely  head  and  haughty  mien,  stand 
ing  where  he  had  left  her,  a  golden-haired  fairy 
clinging  to  her  hand. 

The  golden-haired  fairy  said  to  the  dark-eyed 
girl  as  the  carriage  disappeared  and  Mildred  en 
tered  the  house,  "I'se  most  ashamed  of  you." 

"  Why,  Maude,  what  have  I  done  ?  " 

"  Because  you  wouldn't  go  to  ride  with  Mr. 
Harry  when  he  was  so  good  as  to  come  for  you." 

"  Why,  darling,  is  that  all.  That  made  no  par 
ticular  difference  to  Mr.  Campbell ;  he  found  Milly, 
you  know,"  and  out  popped  the  little  feeling  in 
her  heart  and  unmistakably  declared  its  nature. 

"  Yes  it  did  make  a  difference,"  persisted  the 
little  lady.  "  We  did  not  meet  Milly  until  nearly 
home,  and  he  came  for  you  not  for  her,  for  I  heard 
him  tell  mother  that  he  had  come  '  for  Violet  and 
her  Ennie.'  " 


184  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"Well,  Violet,"  hesitated  Yensie,  "I  did  not 
think  it  best  to  go.  Mr.  Campbell  is  very  rich." 

"  And  ain't  rich  people  ever  good  ?  "  asked  the 
little  girl,  who  could  not  just  see  what  the  gentle 
man's  wealth  had  to  do  with  the  question. 

"  Why,  yes,  I  suppose  so,  you  queer  little 
thing,"  laughed  Yensie. 

"I  thought  so,"  said  the  fairy.  "lam  sure  he 
is  very  good,  and  handsome,  and  a  gentleman ;  I 
heard  mother  say  so." 

"  And  I  am  a  lady,"  said  Yensie,  quickly  as  if 
some  one  had  asserted  otherwise. 

"  And  is  that  the  way  ladies  always  act  when 
gentlemen  come  to  take  out  their  little  sick  friends 
for  a  ride?"  asked  the  child,  innocently. 

"  O  Violet,  what  a  strange  question,"  and  the 
girl  stooped  to  kiss  her.  "I  never  saw  such  a 
child.  Will  you  never  be  content  without  reach 
ing  the  bottom  of  a  subject  ?  I  didn't  wish  to  go 
with  Mr.  Campbell.  I  want  him  to  understand  I 
won't  court  his  attentions." 

"  Isn't  that  proud  ?  "  interrupted  Maude.  "  O 
Ennie,  I  guess  he  said  right  when  he  said  you 
were  '  proud  and  naughty.'  " 

But  Yensie  heard  no  more.  Proud  !  Naughty  ! 
Indeed,  she  would  have  him  understand  he  hud  no 
right  to  call  her  such,  or  to  judge  her  in  any  way ; 
and  turning  indignantly  she  hurried  in,  obedient 
to  Aunt  Sarah's  shrill  call. 


amciij'   "~_yf'- 

^v      (<i 


CHAPTER  XV. 


"  For  often  in  the  parting  hour, 
Victorious  love  asserts  its  power." 

WALTER  SCOTT. 


Yensie  was  not  to  entertain  this  feeling 
long  against  Harry  Campbell. 
As  the  autumn  days  crept  on  and  little 
Violet  grew  more  feeble  the  young  man  spent 
much  time  with  her,  carrying  her  about  in  his 
strong  arms  whither  she  wished  to  go,  sometimes 
to  a  seat  under  the  old  apple-trees,  oftener  to  the 
banks  of  the  stream  which  wound  its  way  back  of 
the  house. 

As  Maude  was  never  content  without  Yensie,  of 

course  these  two  were  thrown  much  together.     At 

first  to  please  Maude,  who  was  troubled  by  her 

evident  coldness  to   Harry,  afterwards  because  his 

185 


186  YENSIE   WALTON. 

deep  attachment  to  her  little  cousin  touched  her, 
she  treated  him  more  kindly. 

He  noticed  this  and  strove  in  every  way  to  be 
agreeable,  often  bringing  with  the  rare  flowers  and 
delicious  fruits  he  supplied  for  the  invalid,  some 
journal,  or  choice  bit  of  poetry  to  read  in  the  quiet 
hours.  Unconsciously  Yensie  began  to  look  for 
ward  with  pleasure  to  his  coming,  and  found  those 
days  shortest  which  were  enlivened  by  his  reading 
and  conversation. 

But  Mrs.  Campbell  was  really  nervous.  Re 
monstrance  with  her  son  was  vain,  and  she  de 
cided  to  return  to  the  city  though  much  against 
his  will. 

"  We  have  out-stayed  all  our  guests,"  she  said. 
"  I  will  go  over  with  you  to-morrow  and  bid  little 
Violet  farewell,  then  I  shall  expect  you  to  stay 
with  me  until  we  depart." 

The  lady  was  hardly  prepared  for  the  quiet  dig 
nity  with  which  Yensie  greeted  her  the  next  day 
when  she  called.  It  compared  favorably,  however, 
with  the  ostentatious  welcome  of  her  aunt,  and 
she  began  to  understand  the  attraction  there  for 
her  son  and  was  more  than  ever  rejoiced  at  her 
decision  to  depart. 

She  appreciated  the  look  of  pain  that  crossed 
Violet's  face  when  Harry  spoke  of  his  early  de 
parture,  but  was  as  unsuccessful  as  her  son  in  dis 
covering  any  trace  of  sorrow  on  the  countenance 
of  the  maiden ;  for,  strange  to  say,  they  both 


YENSIE  WALTON.  187 

looked  up  eagerly  to  catch  such  indications  if 
there,  though  both  from  very  different  motives. 

When  Yensie  saw  the  carriage  approaching  she 
had  guessed  the  nature  of  the  visit  and  was  there 
fore  prepared  for  the  news  before  it  was  an 
nounced.  She  did  not  know  that  when  Harry 
kissed  Maude  good-by  he  whispered  an  assurance 
of  another  visit  on  the  morrow,  but  she  felt  a 
thrill  of  joy  when  Violet  imparted  this  information 
as  the  carriage  drove  out  of  the  yard. 

"  Mother,"  said  Harry,  as  the  lady  sank  back  on 
the  carriage  cushions,  "  what  do  you  find  objec 
tionable  in  that  young  lady  ?  " 

"I  think  she  is  very  pleasing  in  her  appear 
ance,"  admitted  Mrs.  Campbell ;  "  but  she  is 
either  very  cold  or  very  undemonstrative.  Did 
you  notice  how  coolly  she  took  the  intelligence  of 
your  early  departure  ?  " 

Harry  laughed,  though  it  must  be  confessed  he 
had  felt  troubled  over  that  very  thing. 

"  My  little  mother,  why  should  she  grieve  ? 
Would  not  you  be  the  first  to  find  fault  with  her  if 
she  had  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes ;  I  don't  know  but  I  should,  that  is 
if  you  had  reciprocated  the  sorrow,"  answered  the 
lady. 

Harry  looked  into  his  mother's  eyes  steadily 
until  they  dropped  beneath  his  gaze  as  he  replied  : 

"  Then  it  would  be  nothing  at  all  to  you  madam, 
did  your  son  occasion  pain  so  long  as  he  did  not 


188  YENSIE   WALTON. 

disgrace  you  by  appreciating  that  suffering  ?  Or, 
shall  I  go  further  and  say  no  matter  who  suffers, 
myself  or  some  one  else,  if  only  I  do  nothing 
outre  ?  Mother,  if  it  is  any  comfort  to  you,  know 
that  I  do  experience  sorrow  at  this  separation 
while  this  young  lady  does  not ;  and  I  would  will 
ingly  lose  my  right  hand  if  I  only  felt  sure  it 
would  cause  her  a  sigh." 

The  little  lady  did  not  reply.  But  she  inwardly 
bemoaned  her  folly  in  remaining  so  long  at  Wyun, 
and  resolved  after  her  brother's  marriage  to  coax 
her  son  into  a  European  tour  and  give  this  girl  a 
chance  to  marry.  Well  for  her,  Harry  did  not 
know  what  she  premeditated,  or  he  would  have 
spoiled  her  whole  scheme  by  outright  disobe 
dience. 

As  it  was,  he  made  his  way  to  the  farm-house 
the  next  afternoon. 

"I  told  you  I  would  come  again,"  taking  Maude 
in  his  arms,  his  face  radiant  —  for,  had  he  not  read 
unmistakable  pleasure  on  Yensie's  countenance 
at  his  appearing  ? 

"  You  will  miss  me,  little  Pet,  I  know,  but  what 
about  Miss  Ennie  ? "  and  he  looked  up  into  the 
maiden's  eyes  rather  than  into  Violet's  face  for  his 
answer. 

Yensie  flushed  a  little  beneath  his  steady  gaze, 
but  answered  very  calmly ;  "  It  would  be  very 
strange  if  I  could  do  otherwise  than  miss  you,  Mr. 
Campbell,  remembering  your  kindnesses  not  only 


X 

YENSIE  WALTON.  189 

to  ray  precious  Violet  but  to  myself.  I  am  not 
insensible  to  friendship  I  assure  you."  Then  she 
turned  the  subject  skillfully  to  something  else. 

"I  cannot  stay  long,"  he  said  presently. 
"  Mother  waits  me,  and  we  go  to-morrow." 

"Is  it  the  last  time  I  shall  see  you?"  asked 
Violet. 

"  I  trust  not,  Pet ;  I  shall  be  back  soon." 

"  How  soon  ?  "  she  inquired,  regarding  him  ear 
nestly. 

"  At  Christmas,  surely  ;  Uncle  Robinson  is  to  be 
married  then,  and  insists  on  having  the  ceremony 
take  place  here.  But  I  will  come  sooner  than 
that  if  necessary.  If  you  want  me  Maude,  send 
for  me,  will  you  ?  " 

The  little  one  answered  him  affirmatively  ;  then 
he  said,  "  I  must  go  now.  How  much  I  hate  to 
leave  this  place  I  cannot  express,"  and  again  he 
glanced  at  Yensie,  but  she  met  his  eyes  with  an 
unchanged  countenance. 

"  My  precious  little  Violet !  "  and  he  clasped  her 
tightly ;  then  laying  her  gently  back,  arranged  her 
pillows  with  a  woman's  skill.  She  clung  to  his 
neck  a  moment  whispering,  "  I'll  tell  Him  all  the 
same  if  I  don't  see  you  again,  and  Ennie  will  tell 
you  all  the  way  -to  find  Him." 

Then  Harry  turned  and  took  Yensie's  hand. 
His  heart  was  in  his  eyes  and  she  read  more  there 
than  she  expected  to  ;  that  which  only  one  woman 
ever  reads  in  any  true  man's  eyes,  and  it  thrilled 


190  YENSIE    WALTON. 

her  as  the  heart  of  woman  always  thrills  when 
conscious  for  the  first  time  of  the  homage  of  a 
noble  heart  no  matter  how  her  own  may  answer  it. 

Just  then  Aunt  Sarah  opened  the  door.  "  Good- 
"by  Mrs.  Walton,"  he  said ;  then,  to  Fred  and  Milly 
out  in  the  kitchen. 

They  all  followed  him  to  the  door,  all  save 
Violet;  she  lay  with  eyes  shut  tightly  to  keep 
back  her  tears. 

He  bent  low  over  Yensie's  hand  at  the  door  as 
he  took  it ;  bent  until  his  hot  breath  swept  her 
cheek  as  he  whispered  a  few  words :  "  I  shall  de 
pend  on  you  to  send  for  me  should  she  grow 
worse.  This  is  my  address." 

He  had  placed  his  card  in  her  hand  and  was 
gone,  and  she  stood  looking  after  the  manly  figure 
and  watched  until  he  turned  at.  the  bend  and 
waved  his  hand  to  her ;  then  she  went  back  with  a 
certain  feeling  of  mingled  pain  and  pleasure,  and 
looked  at  the  little  card  as  if  it  was  a  tie  which 
somehow  brought  him  nearer. 

There  was  a  sense  of  great  loss  the  next  day 
that  settled  upon  her,  as  with  Maude  she  watched 
the  elegant  equipage  growing  small  in  the  distance 
from  the  window  of  which  a  white  handkerchief 
waved  until  completely  hidden  by  a  turn  in  the 
road  —  a  sense  of  loss  that  caused  her  to  shed 
tears  over  the  little  one  in  her  lap. 

It  seemed,  the  day  before,  that  she  had  been 
lifted  into  boundless  wealth  since  it  had  been  re- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  191 

vealed  to  her  that  in  the  deepest  depths  of  one 
true  heart  she  reigned  a  queen.  She  could  not 
have  analyzed  her  feelings,  but  every  time  she  re 
called  that  glance,  the  rich  blood  sprang  to  her 
cheek  and  brow,  and  throbbed  tumultuously 
through  every  vein. 

She  who  had  been  denied  a  father's  and  a  moth 
er's  love ;  she  who  had  gathered  up  the  little  rills 
of  affection  with  all  a  miser's  eagerness ;  who 
looked  forward  with  such  a  sense  of  desolation  to 
the  time  when  death  should  rob  her  of  her  dar 
ling's  love  ;  she,  held  dearest,  highest,  best,  en 
throned  sole  empress  of  one  throbbing  human 
breast. 

This  was  too  great  a  joy  to  believe.  It  made 
her  face  radiant  with  new  beauty  for  many  days. 
She  had  read  this  unmistakably  in  his  face,  and 
the  assurance  came  fraught  with  peculiar  tempta 
tion  to  one  of  just  her  temperament,  with  all  its 
yearnings  for  affection,  with  all  its  consciousness 
of  undeveloped  power  and  strong  ambition  for 
domination. 

The  days  settled  into  sameness  now,  broken 
once  by  a  box  from  the  city  containing  flowers  and 
fruit  for  the  sick  child  and  a  book  of  late  poems. 
The  winter  was  very  mild  and  not  favorable  to 
health,  and  the  little  invalid  grew  increasingly 
feeble. 

Yensie  was  installed  nurse,  and  the  front  chamber 
was  given  up  to  her  and  her  charge.  Decem- 


192  YENSIB  WALTON. 

ber  came  and  the  days  grew  very  quiet,  hushed. 
Yensie  had  given  up  her  weekly  lessons  and  saw 
little  of  Alice  Grey.  Mr.  Goodale  was  sick  with 
typhoid  fever. 

The  week  before  Christmas  came,  Violet  began 
to  suffer  more.  Mrs.  Campbell  was  already  at  the 
mansion  house  where  preparations  were  going  on 
for  the  approaching  wedding.  Some  of  the  guests 
had  arrived,  but  Fred  ascertained  that  Harry  was 
not  there,  and,  urged  by  Yensie,  Uncle  John  sent 
him  a  telegram. 

He  did  not  receive  it,  however.  He  had  gone  to 
see  Herbert,  dispatched  by  his  uncle,  who,  having 
taken  a  decided  liking  to  his  nephew's  friend, 
wished  him  to  act  as  second  groomsman,  Harry 
being  first. 

When  Mr.  Campbell  made  his  appearance  at 
W}rnn  the  day  bef«^j  Christmas  he  was  confronted 
by  the  stable  boy,  bearing  a  tiny  note  : 

"  The  little  schamp  from  the  farm-house  axed 
me  to  give  ye  this :  " 

"  Violet  will  not  live  to  see  to-morrow.  We  tele 
graphed  two  days  since.  Y.  W." 

"  Give  my  excuses  to  mother,  Tom.  I  am  called 
suddenly  away ;  bring  out  King  John,"  and  in  less 
than  five  minutes  Harry  was  riding  at  the  top  of 
his  speed  towards  the  farm-house. 

Meanwhile,  in  the  front  chamber  of  the  old  red 
farm-house  a  young  life  was  ebbing  slowly  away  ; 


YBNSIE  WALTON.  193 

or  should  we  rather  say  that  in  the  old  home-nest 
a  little  bird  plumed  itself  for  everlasting  soarings, 
while  one  she  loved  looked  on  and  mourned. 

Mourned,  not  at  her  loss  however ;  she  never 
could  be  lost  to  Yensie.  She,  with  whose  memory 
each  tree,  and  twig,  and  winding  path  was  inclis- 
solubly  linked ;  she,  whose  eyes  would  smile  on  her 
from  every  blue-eyed  flower ;  whose  golden  curls 
would  wave  in  every  gleam  of  sunshine  ;  whose 
loving  voice  would  whisper  soothing  in  every 
passing  zephyr ;  whose  tender  ministry  was  once 
and  forever  linked  with  every  pure  and  holy  thing 
in  earth  and  heaven,  in  heart  of  God  and  heart  of 
man;  could  not  be  lost. 

Sister  Rogers  had  whispered  to  her  that  very 
morning  as  she  gazed  on  the  marble  faces,  "  her 
gain,  but  your  loss,  Miss  Yeusie." 

But  Yensie  had  shrank,  shocked  at  the  very 
thought.  Maude's  gain,  her  loss  ?  nay,  never  ! 
How  could  it  be  that  by  adding  to  her  treasure's 
treasure,  she  could  be  robbed  ?  Her  darling  gath 
ering  ever  and  forever  the  endless  blessings  and 
exhaust] ess  glories  of  the  Holiest,  and  she  impov 
erished  thereby !  Nay,  rather  say  enriched,  since 
part  cannot  receive  without  enlarging  all,  and 
Violet  was  now  and  must  be  eternally,  part  of  her 
very  life. 

Ah  !  no.  It  was  not  that  the  nestling's  wings 
had  grown,  she  mourned ;  hail,  any  breeze  to  waft 
this  spotless  dove  beyond  the  possibility  of  stain- 


194  YENSIE  WALTON. 

ing ;  this  joyous  soul  beyond  the  chance  of  griev 
ing  !  Not  at  the  bird's  departure  did  she  weep, 
but  that  she  must  remain  behind  and  share  the 
deserted  nest  and  feel  its  utter  loneliness. 

Violet  had  been  to  Yensie  what  no  other  being 
could  ever  be.  The  first  little  babe  her  arms  had 
ever  held,  the  first  tender  love  that  found  its  way 
to  her  smitten,  numbed,  bereaved  heart,  when  she 
came  a  little  orphan  to  Valley  Farm. 

To  Maude  she  had  gone  with  every  sorrow,  ex 
pecting  sympathy  and  comfort  as  well  as  love ; 
and  in  her  baby-fashion  she  had  given  it  unstinted. 
Hers  was  the  one  sweet  influence  that  kept  the 
orphan's  heart  from  growing  utterly  cold  and  cal 
lous  under  the  bitter  experience  life  brought  her 
so  early. 

Maude's  faith  in  God  had  brought  hers  back  to 
life  when  almost  dead  /Maude's  faith  in  man  had 
made  her  hope  for  else  than  unldndness  ;  Maude's 
faith  in  her,  had  made  her  strong  to  fight  the  giant 
evils  in  her  own  heart.  When  no  one  else  prayed 
for  her,  Maude  prayed,  "  God  bless  dear  Ennie." 
To  her  next  to  Alice  Grey  she  had  told  the  story 
of  her  redemption. 

"  That  which  the  fountain  sends  forth,  returns 
again  to  the  fountain ;  "  and  back  on  the  head 
of  her  darling  she  had  poured  the  gathered  rills  of 
love  and  blessing  hoarded  through  years  and 
grown  to  great  rivers  beneath  the  magnifying 
grace  of  God.  She  had  brought  out  those  baby 


YENSIE   WALTON.  195 

feet  into  the  paths  of  conscious  communion  and 
fellowship  with  Christ  —  those  feet  now  tremb 
ling  on  the  verge  of  eternity,  about  to  mount  into 
the  open  light  of  heaven. 

No  snow  had  fallen  all  winter,  and  Maude  had 
experienced  a  desire  to  see  the  tiny  flakes  again, 
and  Yeusie  had  watched  for  weeks  for  indications 
of  approaching  storm.  To-day  the  sky  was  dull, 
the  air  chill,  everything  portended  snow,  but  the 
maiden  feared  her  darling  would  be  gone  ere  it 
would  fall. 

Mrs.  Walton  met  Harry  at  the  door  and  con 
ducted  him  up  stairs.  Yensie  sat  beside  the  bed 
her  head  resting  on  her  hand,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
face  of  the  little  one,  her  attitude  full  of  inex 
pressible  agony. 

Upon  the  bed  lay  little  Violet.  Her  long  hair 
like  shining  waves  of  gold  spread  over  the  pillow, 
her  eyes  closed,  their  dark  lashes  causing  the  face 
to  look  so  marble-like  that  Harry  started,  fearful 
she  was  already  beyond  his  reach. 

He  approached  the  bed.  "  Yensie,  I  did  not  get 
the  telegram,"  he  whispered,  and  then  bending 
over  the  couch  called  tenderly,  "  Violet." 

The  blue  eyes  opened  quickly,  the  parched  lips 
parted  with  such  a  smile,  while  she  stretched  her 
hands  toward  him.  He  stooped  to  meet  her  em 
brace,  and  Yensie,  through  her  tears,  saw  the  dark 
curls  mingle  with  the  golden,  the  handsome  face 
so  full  of  youth  and  beauty,  yet  so  wholly  of  this 


196  YENS1E  WALTON. 

world,  press  the  pale  lily,  the  spotless  loveliness, 
that  mirrored  only  heaven. 

"  Take  me,"  Maude  whispered,  and  wrapped  in 
a  blanket,  he  bore  her  back  and  forth  in  his  strong 
arms. 

Yensie  rose  and  walked  to  the  window.  The 
ground  was  growing  white,  the  snow  must  have 
been  falling  some  minutes. 

Great  seemed  the  satisfaction  of  the  little  one  as, 
cradled  in  the  young  man's  arms,  she  watched  the 
tiny  flakes  descend  ;  but  she  soon  grew  weary  and 
begged  to  be  laid  down  again ;  then,  with  a  hand  in 
each  of  theirs,  she  fell  into  a  peaceful  sleep. 

Harry  glanced  at  the  beloved  object,  separated 
yet  bound  to  him  by  that  wee  form,  but  Yensie's 
eyes  were  fixed  on  her  darling. 

Presently  Mild*"^!  came  into  the  room,  and 
Harry  rose  to  greet  her.  The  child  began  to  move, 
quivering  as  if  in  pain.  He  stood  and  watched 
the  convulsed  face  until  he  could  bear  it  no 
longer. 

Mildred  had  gone  out.  Miss  Grey  came  in. 
Harry  turned  to  the  door,  and  Yensie  followed 
him. 

"You  will  excuse  me  from  waiting  on  you 
down-stairs  ?  "  she  said  ;  "  I  must  stay  with  Maude 
while  I  have  her." 

Her  voice  trembled  over  the  last  four  words. 
He  only  pressed  her  hand,  and  for  the  second  time 


YENSLE   WALTON.  197 

that  day  forgot  the  prefix  he  used  generally  before 
her  name. 

"  Yensie,  I  wish  I  could  comfort  you.  God 
knows  I  never  felt  so  helpless  as  to-day,"  and  he 
was  gone. 

Gone  out  into  the  wind  and  snow,  out  with  a 
heart  in  which  pain  and  pleasure,  doubt  and  won 
derment,  were  holding  controversy ;  for  so  self 
dares  to  intrude  upon  our  most  sacred  hours.  He 
questioned  if  she  thought  of  that  bond  the  child 
had  made  between  them  when  she  had  given  a 
hand  to  each  —  a  bond  which  separated  and  yet 
linked  them  —  alas,  he  could  not  guess  how  truly. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


"A  dear,  undying  vision  from  above, 
Bearing  through  death  the  olive,  like  the  dove, 
To  realms  of  love." 


•ARRY  had  been,  since  six  o'clock,  waiting 
impatiently  in  the  depot  for  Herbert's 
appearance. 

Guests  had  been  arriving  all  the  morning  and 
earlier  part  of  the  afternoon.  He  had  hardly  ex 
pected  his  friend  before  eight  o'clock,  if  he  came 
at  all  in  such  a  storm;  but  his  restlessness  in 
creased  as  the  day  advanced,  and  became  alto 
gether  unbearable  as  the  evening  settled  in,  and  in 
spite  of  his  mother's  protestations,  he  had  hur 
ried  to  the  station. 

There,  pacing  up  and  down  the  waiting-room,  he 
wondered  if  Maude  still  lived — why  the  time 
passed  so  slowly  —  what  delayed  the  train  that  it 


YENSIE   WALTON.  199 

should  be  so  much  behind  time.  Though  this 
might  have  been  reasonably  expected  considering 
the  state  of  the  weather. 

At  last  he  heard  the  whistle  and  the  great 
engine  with  its  fiery  eye,  like  some  storm-fury, 
swept  puffing  and  groaning  into  the  depot;  and 
there,  among  the  three  who  alighted,  stood  Herbert 
Gardenell. 

Harry  had  him  by  the  arm  in  a  moment,  hurry 
ing  him  to  the  waiting  coach.  "  I  feared  you 
would  not  come  —  the  train  is  late.  But  I  am  so 
relieved,  so  glad  to  see  you,"  shutting  the  carriage 
door  with  one  hand,  as  he  grasped  his  friend's  with 
the  other. 

"  Yes,  the  train  was  delayed,  the  snow  blocked 
up  the  road  somewhat.  1  hardly  expected  to  find 
you  waiting  for  me,"  said  Herbert,  heartily  sink 
ing  back  on  the  velvet  cushions.  "Have  your 
guests  all  arrived  ?  Rather  unfortunate  this  storm 
for  such  a  time." 

"  Yes,  but  most  of  the  guests  are  here,"  Harry 
replied.  "  Some  arrived  two  days  ago,  the  bigger 
part  last  night  and  this  morning.  There  are  a  few- 
missing  —  will  not  be  likely  to  come  now  —  but  as 
the  divines  are  safely  housed  the  ceremony  can  go 
on,  though  I  fear  this  storm  will  delay  the  bridal 
tour.  What  has  got  into  Tom  ?  Aren't  we  going 
at  a  very  slow  rate  ?  "  he  added,  uneasily. 

"  You  are  not  often  in  such  a  hurry.  Is  there 
some  particular  fair  one  waiting  your  return  I 


200  YENSIE  WALTON. 

wonder?  Miss  Hartley,  for  instance,"  laughed 
Herbert. 

But    Harry  only  scowled,    and    said,  politely : 

"  Hang  Lois  Hartley.  She  has  about  made  me 
sick  tc-day.  What  ails  that  Irish  fool  ?  Tom,  you 
rascal,"  thrusting  his  head  out  of  the  door,  "  why 
don't  you  hurry  ?  " 

"  An'  it's  mesilf  as  is  thrying,"  answered  that 
worthy.  The  sthorni  is  too  much  for  me.  Ye 
wouldn't  have  me  kill  the  horses  now  ?  " 

"  Kill  anything,"  was  the  very  sensible  reply, 
"  only  get  us  home  before  midnight." 

Unbroken  silence  settled  upon  the  occupants  of 
the  coach  now,  only  disturbed  by  the  frozen  snow, 
dashing  against  the  windows  and  Tom's  "  now, 
now  me  beauties,  jist  show  yersilves ;  it's  ye's  that 
can  go  whin  ye's  thry,"  etc.,  etc. 

Into  the  dining  room  Harry  hurried  his  friend. 
"  Gard,  take  some  hot  coffee  and  a  lunch,  you  must 
be  frozen."  Then,  to  the  old  lady  who  answered 
the  bell,  "  Aunt  Roxy,  serve  me  something  hot 
without  a  moment's  delay." 

As  Mr.  Campbell  turned  from  giving  this  order 
he  met  his  friend's  puzzled  face.  "  I  cannot  help 
wondering,"  he  smiled.  "  It  is  so  delightfully  new 
to  see  3rou  hurried  at  all." 

"  Did  it  strike  you  that  Aunt  Roxy  seemed  sur 
prised  thereby  ?  "  asked  Harry.  "  You  do  not 
know  me  yet,  my  friend." 

The  young  man  curbed  his  impatience,  however, 


YENSIE   WALTON.  201 

until  his  friend  had  finished  a  hearty  meal,  then 
laying  a  hand  on  Herbert's  arm  he  said,  "  Gard,  I 
want  you  to  put  on  your  overcoat,  and  go  out 
again.  Little  Violet  is  dying ;  dead,  perhaps,  ere 
this,"  and  he  shivered. 

"  I  did  not  dare  tell  you  before.  I  knew  you 
would  hurry  off  without  your  supper.  This  mis 
erable  village !  I  never  saw  the  value  before  of 
station-restaurants.  I'd  have  given  a  small  pile  to 
have  had  one  here  this  night.  But  we  can  hurry 
now,  the  carriage  is  waiting.  I  will  dismiss  Tom 
and  drive  you  over  myself." 

Mr.  Gardenell  was  hurrying  on  his  overshoes, 
but  he  said,  "poor  child  !  " 

"  You  would  not  use  that  tone  if  you  had  seen 
her  as  I  did  this  morning,"  said  Harry.  "  Poor, 
indeed!  O  Herbert,  I  never  imagined  such  a 
sight ;  her  very  face  shines." 

"  Maude's  ?  Yes,  I  know  it  must,"  replied  Her 
bert.  "  I  did  not  mean  her." 

"  But  Yensie  ?  "  said  Harry,  quickly.  "  O  Gard, 
that  is  it ;  the  little  one  is  going  beyond  the  pain, 
I  know  that  much,  but  God  knows  I'd  have  given 
my  fortune  this  morning  could  I  have  offered  one 
crumb  of  comfort  to  that  stricken  girl.  She  was 
so  quiet,  so  subdued,  and  yet,  my  God,  so  ago 
nized.  I  shall  never  forget  the  anguish  in  her 
dark  eyes,  as  I  turned  and  met  them  just  as  that 
little  one  passed  through  a  spasm  of  pain.  You 
tvill  know  what  to  say  Gard,  how  to  comfort  her. 


202  YENSIE   WALTON. 

'Twas  for  her  sake  I  waited  so  impatiently  for 
your  coming  ;  "  and  he  rushed  out  to  see  that  all 
was  ready. 

There  was  no  chance  to  talk  after  that.  The 
snow  had  fallen  in  great  quantities  and  was  yet 
falling,  the  wind  drifting  it  in  great  heaps  and 
blowing  it  in  Harry's  eyes  so  that  it  was  all  he 
could  do  to  keep  the  horses  in  the  road. 

At  length  he  drew  up  the  faithful  creatures, 
panting  from  exertion,  in  front  of  the  farm-house 
gate. 

"Will  you  go  in?"  questioned  Gardenell. 

"  Me  ?  No.  I  can  do  no  good,  and  I  have  seen 
all  I  can  bear,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Then  do  not  wait  for  me.  Go  home  and  put 
up  those  horses.  I  can  walk  back  better  than 
they  can  carry  me  ; "  and  he  hurried  toward  the 
house,  while  Harry  turned  homeward. 

The  grand  old  trees  were  swaying  and  groaning, 
tossed  by  the  wind  which  whistled  fiercely  around 
the  corners  of  the  old  house ;  creaking  the  shut 
ters,  rattling  the  doors  as  if  battling  for  entrance, 
and  moaning  and  shrieking  about  the  windows 
where  the  sick  child  lay. 

But  in  the  chamber  of  death  all  was  quiet,  yea, 
hushed,  the  silence  occasionally  broken  by  a  sob 
from  Fred  or  Mildred,  who  knelt,  with  faces  hid 
den  in  the  bed-clothes,  by  the  farther  side  of  the 
bed,  or  by  a  smothered  groan  from  Uncle  John, 


YENSIE   WALTON.  203 

who  sat  with  his  face  hidden  in  his  great  hands 
struggling  with  his  grief. 

Herbert  Gardenell  made  his  way  to  the  kitchen 
where  he  saw  a  light,  fearing  lest  his-knock  might 
disturb  the  child  did  she  yet  live. 

It  was  Jinks  who  answered  his  rap  and  con 
ducted  him  to  the  front  hall,  whispering  hoarsely 
as  he  pointed  up  the  stairs,  "  First  door  .to  the 
right." 

No  one  noticed  Herbert  as  he  entered,  for  all 
eyes  were  fixed  on  the  shining  face  of  the  little 
one.  She  lay  with  eye?  half  closed,  a  smile  about 
her  lips  waiting  her  angel  escorts. 

It  was  the  lighting  of  her  face  as  her  opening 
eyes  met  Herbert's,  that  made  them  first  aware  of 
his  presence. 

She  extended  her  little  hand  feebly,  as  she  tried 
to  speak  his  name,  and  silently  he  came  forward 
and  bent  over  her. 

"  I  thought  you'd  come,  I  asked  Him,"  she  said, 
brokenly  ;  "  I  had  something  to  say  to  you." 

Her  voice  was  growing  thick,  and  her  lips  were 
parched.  Alice  Grey  lifted  a  cup  from  the  table 
and  wet  them. 

The  little  one  smiled  her  thanks,  and  closed  her 
eyes  for  a  moment,  but  still  clung  to  the  hand  the 
young  man  had  given  her. 

"When  you  preach,"  —  she  had  loved  to  talk 
with  Yensie  about  Mr.  Herbert  preaching  some 


204  YENSIE  WALTON. 

day  —  "  tell  the  children  about  "  —  and  she  stopped 
again,  exhausted. 

Presently  she  went  on  brokenly,  "  Jesus  —  little 
ones  —  Nettie  and  I." 

He  knew  now  what  she  meant.  "  The  story  I 
told  you  and  Nettie,  the  day  you  were  at  the  man 
sion  house,  of  Jesus  and  His  love  for  children  ?  " 
he  questioned,  gently. 

She  smiled  and  whispered,  "  yes."  Then,  as  if 
gathering  all  her  strength  for  this  last  effort,  "  tell 
them  not  to  wait  to  grow  big,  He  saves  the  chil 
dren  now.  Tell  them  He  saved  me,"  and  she 
closed  her  eyes. 

She  hardly  seemed  to  breathe  in  the  next  few 
minutes,  and  those  about  her  held  their  breath  in 
fear ;  but  again  the  blue  eyes  opened,  and  the 
movement  of  her  little  hands,  the  single  word 
"  up,"  told  what  she  wanted. 

Herbert  lifted  her  head  carefully  and  seating 
himself  on  the  bed  drew  it  to  his  bosom.  Her 
smile  thanked  him. 

Her  eyes  wandered  from  face  to  face  with  a 
smile  of  recognition ;  a  pitiful  glance  as  they 
met  Mr.  Walton's  bowed  figure,  and  the  word 
"  father ;  "  a  painful  expression  as  they  met  the 
two  tearful  child  faces  lifted  for  a  moment  from 
the  counterpane ;  a  look  of  inexpressible  love 
and  yearning  as  they  rested  on  her  darling  Ennie. 

She  stretched  out  her  little  hand  whispering, 
"  Sing  —  pearly  gates  open  "  —  and  Yensie  under- 


YEXSIE  WALTON.  205 

stood  her  wish.  She  took  the  little  hand,  but  how 
could  she  sing  when  all  her  heart  was  melting  into 
agony  ? 

Yet  those  earnest  eyes,  whose  light  would  soon 
go  out  on  earth  forever,  were  pleading  and  she 
could  but  try.  Her  voice  trembled  perceptibly  as 
she  began,  the  struggle  for  control  was  very  evi 
dent,  but  ere  the  first  chorus  was  ended  she  had 
gained  the  mastery  over  her  emotions. 

"  Ope  —  open  wide  to  Violet,"  gasped  the  little 
one,  and  Yensie  understanding  changed  the  words 
as  she  had  wished. 

THE    SONG. 

I  think  I  hear  the  angel  minstrels  singing, 
I  think  I  hear  them  blessed  tidings  bringing, 

Of  good  to  man ; 

Of  peace  on  earth,  and  joy  which  endeth  never, 
But  welds  the  present  to  the  vast  forever 

In  endless  psalm. 

Chorus. 

Sleep,  darling  sleep!    The  God  who  made,  still  hearing, 
Bids  me  be  still,  and  never  fearing, 

In  him  abide; 

For  having  given  Christ,  all  good  is  given, 
And  some  day  hope  will  ripe  to  rich  fruition — 

We  reach  his  side. 


Come  angel-bands,  from  fields  forever  vernal, 
Coine  angel-bands,  from  joys  which  are  eternal, 
To  earthly  shore, 


206  YENSIE  WALTON. 

And  guide  these  tiny  feet  through  bluest  ether 

To  where  beside  the  Christ  they'll  rest  forever, 

For  evermore. 

Chorus. 

Oh,  pearly  gates,  ope,  open  wide  to  Violet  I 
Nor  let  our  selfish  love  e'er  hold  her  here. 
Lift  up,  lift  up,  O  wondrous  gates  of  glory  I 
And  let  the  beauties  of  that  world  appear. 

The  look  ineffable  which  passed  over  the  lovely 
face  as  Yensie  sung  the  last  chorus  cannot  be 
described.  She  lifted  herself  as  with  supernatural 
strength  from  her  reclining  position. 

"  Ennie  they  are  coming  —  listen  —  the  pearly 
—  gates  are  open  —  wide.  Ennie  —  I  —  see  — 
Jesus,"  and  falling  back  upon  Herbert's  bosom 
with  one  long  sigh  the  little  spirit  went  out  and 
the  old  clock  in  the  dining-room  struck  twelve. 

Went  out!  not  on  the  wings  of  night,  not  on 
the  wings  of  the  storm ;  but  beyond  th"e  night, 
beyond  the  storm,  borne  so  mysteriously,  and  yet 
so  surely  to  the  Father's  bosom.  Just  as  the  last 
stroke  of  the  old  clock  proclaimed  one  hour  ended 
another  one  begun;  so  the  last  pulsation  of  that 
little  heart  proclaimed  an  earthly  pilgrimage  past, 
heaven  gained ;  for  in  that  little  breath  of  time 
God's  swift-winged  messengers  had  gone  forth  and 
returned  to  lay  the  lamb  within  the  Shepherd's 
bosom. 

And  Herbert  Gardenell  realizing  all  this,  lay  back 


TENSIE  WALTON.  207 

again  amid  the  pillows,  the  lovely  casket  from 
which  the  gem  had  been  removed,  repeating  in 
solemn  joyousness  as  one  of  old,  "  The  Lord  gave, 
and  the  Lord  hath  taken  away ;  blessed  be  the 
name  of  the  Lord.  Let  us  thank  Him."  And  on 
bended  knees,  up  from  that  death-robbed  bed-side, 
rose  such  thanksgiving  for  a  life  so  precious,  a 
death  so  glorious ;  a  gift  so  guarded  here,  so 
gently  gathered  there ;  such  a  pean  of  praise  for 
grace  which  could  out  of  the  mouth  o£  such  a 
babe  ordain  such  wondrous  strength  as  those  gath 
ered  in  that  chamber  had  never  heard  before. 

Milly  and  Fred  checked  their  sobs  instinctively, 
while  Uncle  John  and  Yensie  felt  the  flood-gates 
of  their  souls  unloosed  in  precious  tear-rills,  and 
Alice  Grey  followed  each  word  with  joy  unutter 
able. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


"  Oh,  what  is  life  but  a  sum  of  love, 

And  death  but  to  lose  it  all  ? 
Weeds  be  for  those  that  are  left  behind, 
And  not  for  those  that  fall  !  " 

—  MILNES. 


HE  hands  that  had  so  often  robed  this  lit 
tle  one  in  life,  now  prepared  her  body  for 
the  grave  ;  now  turned,  for  the  last  time 
each  golden  tress  with  a  carefulness  which  earned 
its  skill  by  years  of  practice. 

Nay,  Yensie  could  not  be  denied  this  sad  privi 
lege,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Miss  Grey  the 
task  was  all  too  soon  completed. 

Mildred  petitioned  for  one  shining  curl,  and 
Yensie  turned  her  face  away  while  Alice  severed 
it.  Mrs.  Walton  was  asked  if  she  would  like  one 
also,  but  she  said,  "  No,  I  should  not  know  what  to 
do  with  it ;  leave  them  where  they  are."  And 
208 


YENSIE  WALTON.  209 

her  niece  blessed  her  heartily  ;  to  shear  her  darling 
seemed  like  such  high  sacrilege. 

Meanwhile,  below  stairs  Herbert  sought  to  ad 
minister  comfort  to  Uncle  John.  The  good  old 
man  had  dreaded  to  see  one  go,  who  had  been  so 
helpful  to  him,  so  evidently  dear  to  the  departed, 
and  had  prevailed  on  the  young  man  to  remain 
through  the  rest  of  the  night ;  and  indeed  it  was  a 
fearful  storm  in  which  to  venture  out. 

The  guest-chamber  war>  already  occupied  by  an 
uninvited  and  unwelcome  guest,  and  this  stranger, 
also  uninvited  but  so  doubly  welcome  could  not 
be  induced  to  retire  to  some  other  room  to  sleep. 
He  had  rather  far  sit  and  talk  with  Mr.  Walton  he 
said,  when  pressed,  though  to  please  that  gentle 
man,  he  at  length  stretched  himself  upon  the  sofa 
in  the  dining-room. 

Aunt  Sarah,  careful,  capable,  managing,  seemed 
like  some  one  dazed  by  this  great  trouble,  and 
yielded  herself  unquestioningly  to  the  hands  of 
her  niece.  It  was  Yensie  who  saw  her  safe  to  bed, 
then  assisted  the  children  to  retire,  waiting  until 
the}'  slept  before  removing  the  lights,  and  it  was 
Yensie  who,  at  length,  prevailed  upon  Miss  Grey 
to  lie  down. 

Alice  allowed  her  young  friend  to  unfasten 
her  clothes  and  hair,  to  prepare  her  a  cup  of  tea 
and  sit  beside  her  until  she  slept ;  knowing  how 
much  it  comforted  her  to  minister  thus  to  some 
one. 


210  YENSIE  WALTON. 

The  grey  morning  creeping  in,  just  as  Alice 
fell  asleep,  suggested  to  the  young  girl  other  work, 
and  she  craved  work  now  as  never  before. 

She  went  down-stairs  softly  and  through  the 
hall,  opening  the  kitchen  door.  Jinks  lay  fast 
asleep  upon  the  settle  where  he  had  thrown  him 
self  towards  morning  after  a  night  of  restlessness. 

Yensie  crept  by  him  to  the  bed-room  and  bring 
ing  out  a  quilt  covered  him,  and  then  began  to 
kindle  the  fire,  and  get  breakfast  ready. 

She  went  about  noiselessly,  lest  she  should  wake 
Jinks,  unconscious  that  through  the  open  door 
two  eyes  followed  her  every  movement,  noting 
each  preparation.  The  coffee  made,  the  fish 
broiled,  she  stepped  into  the  dining-room  to  set  the 
table,  and  stopped  in  astonishment,  met  by  the  face 
of  Herbert  Gardenell. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  as  she  entered.  "  I  have 
startled  you,"  he  said,  apologetically ;  "  I  have  been 
watching  you  at  work  this  while  past,  but  so 
lazily,  so  half  consciously,  as  not  to  arouse  suffi 
ciently  to  remember  you  did  not  know  my  where 
abouts,  and  would  need  this  room  so  soon.  Par 
don  me,  I  suppose  you  did  not  know  I  remained 
through  the  night." 

"  Yes  sir,  I  did  know,"  she  answered,  slightly 
flushing."  My  uncle  told  me,  and  I  have  been 
preparing  your  breakfast.  But  I  supposed  you 
had  a  bed." 

"  I  might  have  had,  but  needed  to  be  stirring  so 


YENSIE  WALTON.  211 

early  I  thought  it  unnecessary  to  retire.  I  fear, 
judging  from  your  heavy  eyes,  you  have  not  tried 
to  rest  at  all." 

"  I  did  not  need  to,"  she  answered,  turning  her 
head  lest  he  should  see  the  tears  started  by  his 
kind  words. 

"  Or,  did  not  wish  to,  which  ? "  he  questioned 
gently.  "  Sometimes  we  do  not  feel  to  need  that 
which  we  need  the  most.  You  must  not  over 
strain  your  body  Yensie,  it  is  God's  gift,  and  mer 
its  care  and  thought  as  well  as  any  other  of  his 
benefits." 

She  hardly  knew  what  to  answer  him,  so  instead 
of  speaking  at  all  she  turned  to  the  cup-board  and 
bringing  out  a  table-cloth  walked  to  the  table. 

Herbert  helped  her  draw  it  out,  then  went  to 
the  kitchen  sink  to  refresh  himself  and  Yensie 
brought  him  a  towel. 

"  Poor  Jinks  is  tired,"  said  Mr.  Walton,  com 
ing  in.  "  Don't  disturb  him,  Ennie  dear ;  I  have 
cared  for  the  cattle ;  "  and  they  three  sat  down  to 
the  table. 

It  was  a  very  quiet  breakfast  hour,  neither  of 
the  three  seeming  to  appreciate  the  food  placed 
before  them,  and  the  girl,  at  least,  was  glad  when 
it  was  over. 

Uncle  John  excused  himself,  and  went  to  seek 
his  wife. 

"  I  think  I  must  go  now,  Yensie,"  said  Herbert, 
again  addressing  her  so  simply,  so  naturally  by  her 


212  YENSIE  WALTON. 

first  name ;  it  had  struck  her  as  the  sweetest  name 
she  had  ever  heard,  both  times  he  had  uttered  it. 
"  I  shall  have  to  trouble  you  for  my  coat  and  hat, 
as  Uncle  John  carried  them  away." 

She  went  out  and  brought  them  in,  standing  be 
fore  him  as  he  put  them  on.  She  felt  so  grateful  for 
his  presence  the  night  before  and  wished  to  tell 
him  so,  but  her  usually  skilful  tongue  had  lost  its 
power. 

"  I  would  not  go  so  soon,"  he  said,  smiling  down 
into  her  face,  "  but  Harry  is  so  worried,  dear  boy, 
and  I  may  be  needed." 

"  I  know  you  came  to  Wynn  expecting  to  at 
tend  a  very  different  occasion,  Mr.  Gardenell,"  she 
said  timidly.  "  But  we  were  very  glad  to  have 
you,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  words  of  comfort 
and  of  prayer." 

"And  I  thank  God,  he  has  permitted  me  so 
early  in  his  service  to  behold  the  power  of  his 
grace  in  one  so  young.  I  thank  him  for  this  mes 
sage  to  the  lambs,  fresh  from  the  lips  of  one  who 
had  tried  the  way  and  knew  of  what  she  spoke. 
God  helping  me,  it  shall  not  be  in  vain  I  stood 
beside  that  bed  last  night.  Her  precious  ministry 
shall  perpetuate  itself  in  mine,  and  thence  perhaps 
in  others,  until  astonished  she  shall  look  some 
where  on  the  abundant  fruits  of  her  short  life." 

Great  tears  were  falling  over  Yensie's  face,  and 
as  he  finished  speaking,  she  gave  him  her  hand 
without  a  word. 


TENSiE  WALTON.  213 

"  I  shall  be  here  again  before  I  go  away,"  he 
said,  "  The  dear  Lord  comfort  you."  She  then 
conducted  him  to  the  door. 

"  It  was  very  early,  yet  not  so  early  but  that 
Harry  Campbell,  covered  with  snow,  stood  before 
the  house  just  about  to  enter. 

"  Violet  ?  "  was  all  he  asked,  eyes  on  the  young 
girl's  face. 

"  Is  safe  within  the  fold,"  was  her  reply. 

He  turned  his  head :  she  must  not  see  his  tears. 

"  Will  you  come  in,  Mr.  Campbell  ?  " 

"No,  no;  not  now,"  he  said  hurriedly,  then 
turning  and  looking  at  her,  he  added  gently,  "  If 
my  presence  would  do  any  good  you  would  not 
need  to  ask  me,  as  it  is  I  had  better  go.  I  think  I 
could  not  bear  to  see  her" — dead,  he  meant  to 
say  but  the  word  choked  him,  and  bowing,  he  fol 
lowed  Gardenell. 

The  snow  was  still  falling,  though  the  wind  had 
ceased,  and  the  two  young  men  found  it  difficult 
to  press  their  way  through  the  great  drifts. 

"  I  did  not  dare  bring  out  the  horses,  "  Harry 
said. 

"  I  am  glad  you  did  not  try  to,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Was  it  long  after  you  got  there  ? "  asked 
Harry,  presently. 

"  Not  very  long.  Just  about  twelve  o'clock  the 
gates  opened  and  she  passed  through,"  responded 
his  friend. 

"Did  she  suffer  much?"  was  the  next  question. 


214  YENSIE  WALTON. 

"Not  after  I  arrived,"  said  Herbert.  "  She  was 
the  happiest  person,  living  or  dying,  my  eyes  ever 
rested  on." 

"  Gard,  did  she  take  it  very  hard  ?  Did  you  try 
to  comfort  her  ?  " 

"  I  asked  God  to,  that  is  the  surer  way,  you 
know,"  said  Herbert,  answering  the  latter  part  of 
the  question. 

"  No,  I  do  not  know,"  was  Harry's  answer,  and 
they  walked  on  in  silence. 

As  tired  and  panting  they  reached  the  gate, 
Harry  tried  to  assume  his  old  humorous  tone. 

"  A  lucky  thing  for  me,  the  ladies  will  have  all 
they  can  do  to-day  to  prepare  their  toilets  for  to 
night,  otherwise  pretty  fix  I  should  be  in,  up  all 
night.  I  say  Gard,  I  envy  you,  old  fellow.  You 
come  out  from  any  occasion,  funeral  or  otherwise, 
fresh  and  glad-faced  as  the  morning.  Give  me 
your  receipt." 

"  The  Lord  is  my  Shepherd.  He  restoreth  my 
soul.  He  anointeth  my  head  with  oil ;  my  cup 
runneth  over." 

"I'd  like  to  try  it,  Gard. 

"  You  may,"  was  the  prompt  reply.  "  It  is. 
'  whosoever  will,'  Harry,  and,  '  whoso  trusteth  in 
the  Lord  happy  is  he.  He  shall  not  be  afraid  of 
evil  tidings,  his  heart  is  fixed  trusting  in  God ; ' 
for,  '  all  things  work  together  for  good  to  them 
who  love  God.'  " 

"Gard,  isn't  that  just  a  little   steep?"    asked 


YENSIE   WALTON.  215 

Harry,  sighing.  " '  All  things  '  means  so  much. 
Don't  you  ever  expect  to  be  where  you  won't  rel 
ish  it ;  where  it  won't  look  reconcilable  to  what 
you  call  good  ?  " 

"  Possibly,"  answered  Herbert,  "  and  yet  the 
truth  will  still  remain.  Facts  never  change.  Our 
belief  can  only  effect  us  not  them.  I  have  been 
enabled  so  far  however,  Harry,  to  prove  that  prom 
ise  true,  and  by  His  grace  expect  to  unto  the  end. 
If  my  faith  fails,  I  will  yet  pray  and  where  I  can 
not  trace  I  will  ask  for  help  to  trust,  knowing  all 
will  be  manifest  some  day." 

In  the  great  house  was  much  preparation  and 
bustle  going  on,  in  the  farm-house  the  looked-for 
occasion  had  passed  and  nervous  expectation  had 
given  place  to  wondrous  calm. 

Later  in  the  day,  Harry  sent  the  choicest,  and 
most  delicate  blossoms  of  the  green-house  to 
Yensie,  and  while  in  one  home  they  decked  with 
orange-blossoms  the  bride-elect  of  Winthrop  Rob 
inson  ;  in  another,  kind  hands  as  tenderly,  as  lov 
ingly,  strewed  over  the  death-chosen  one  nature's 
sweet  comforters. 

That  night  while  Herbert  Gardenell  and  Harry 
Campbell  stood  in  the  richly  decorated  drawing- 
rooms  amid  the  gay,  glad  throng,  where  vows  were 
taken  by  unconsecrated  lips,  which  unconsecrated 
hearts  can  never  fully  keep,  Alice  Grey  and 
Yensie  sat  conversing  in  the  old-time  attic,  but 


216  YENSIE   WALTON. 

little  changed  in  its  appearance  from  other  days. 

As  Alice  clambered  over  the  stairs  and  landed 
at  the  door,  her  companion  noticed  that  with  a 
quick  involuntary  movement  she  placed  her  hand 
on  her  heart  while  her  breath  came  short  and  fast. 

"Are  you  ill?"  cried  the  girl  excitedly.  O 
Alice,  this  has  been  too  much  for  you,"  and  tears 
sprang  to  her  eyes  as  she  gazed  into  the  face  of 
her  friend. 

But  Alice  smiled.  "  Do  not  be  alarmed  darling, 
this  is  nothing  new.  I  have  had  a  heart  difficulty 
for  many  years,"  and  sitting  down  she  took  both 
of  Yensie's  hands  in  hers. 

But  the  young  girl  was  not  satisfied,  her  anx 
ious  eyes  bent  on  her  friend  said  this,  and  Miss 
Grey  answered  them  : 

"  You  are  borrowing  unnecessary  trouble,  little 
girl,"  she  said,  gently.  "  I  am  no  worse  at  pres 
ent  than  for  years  past,  only  I  am  tired.  I  ought 
not  to  have  tried  to  keep  school  this  term.  When 
I  get  home  to  mother  I  will  rest." 

"  And  do  you  suffer  much?  "  inquired  Yensie. 

"  Only  at  times,  dear,  and  then  it  is  bearable." 

"  O  Alice,  why  do  the  good  suffer  ?  I  cannot 
understand  it,"  cried  the  impulsive  child.  "  I  can 
understand  why  a  guilty,  wicked  man  should  bear 
pain,  but  when  I  saw  wee  Violet,  that  innocent, 
little  babe  writhing  in  agony,  my  heart  rebelled, 
and  I  questioned  why  ?  There  only  came  one  an 
swer  in  that  hour,  '  He  knows. '  " 


YENSIE   WALTON.  217 

"  Yes,  He  knows,"  said  Alice,  smiling,  and  with 
a  thrill  of  triumph  in  her  voice  she  added,  "  and 
he  never  makes  mistakes.  We  none  of  us  suffer 
after  our  deserts,  darling,  that  were  unbearable. 
Not  according  to  the  guilt  of  men  is  meted  out 
their  present  pain  or  our  God  judges  most 
strangely.  Such  a  supposition  plunges  us  into  in 
extricable  difficulties.  I  could  believe  the  oppo 
site  better,  that  according  to  the  undeveloped  good 
in  man  God  bids  him  suffer." 

"  But,  Alice,  have  not  all  some  undeveloped 
good  within  them  ?  "  asked  her  companion. 

"  And  do  not  all  suffer  ?  "  was  the  questioning 
reply. 

"  Yes  —  but  —  "  and  Yensie  hesitated.  "  There 
is  so  much  difference,  Alice,  between  the  sufferers 
and  sufferings.  There's  Farmer  Boyd  now,  so 
strong  and  robust,  and  hard-hearted.  It  almost 
seems  as  if  he  had  not  sensitiveness  enough  to  make 
the  pangs  of  hell  excruciating.  I  suppose  he  will 
die  some  day  and  then  disease  and  pain  will  seize 
on  him  ;  but  how  little  will  it  be  after  all  compared 
to  suffering  like  yours,  where  every  tender  fibre 
and  sensitive  nerve  adds  a  hundred-fold  to  every 
pang." 

"  Whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and 
scourgeth  every  son  whom  he  receiveth  ;  "  repeat 
ed  Miss  Grey,  softly. 

"  Yes,  dear  Alice,  but  why  ?  I  am  so  puzzled 
sometimes.  Is  he  not  able  to  make  me  just  as  pure 


218  FENSIE   WALTON. 

and  holy  without  these  scourgings  ?  God  is  not 
limited ;  this  surely  is  not  the  only  way  He  could 
use  to  bring  us  to  himself." 

"  No,"  answered  Miss  Grey,  "  not  the  only  way 
perhaps,  but  undoubtedly  the  best.  His  methods 
are  always  the  wisest,  always  infallible.  We  can 
not  understand  them.  How  dare  finite  aspire  to 
knowledge  of  the  infinite  ?  And  yet,  my  darling, 
even  this  He  promises  to  us  some  day.  '  Now  through 
a  glass  darkly  —  then  face  to  face  —  now  I  know 
in  part  —  then  even  as  I  am  also  known.'  We  are 
in  the  'now'  to-day,  the  '  then  '  will  make  so  many 
dark  things  luminous.  The  glory  of  that  '  after 
wards  '  to  pain  and  suffering  of  which  we  only  get 
such  meagre  droppings  here  will  more  than  com 
pensate  for  the  deepest  depths  of  human  bitterness 
and  woe.  Yensie,  I  sometimes  catch  a  glimmer, 
just  a  glimmer,  from  out  the  inner  glory  —  human 
ity  can  poorly  bear  it,  and  stricken  beneath  its 
power  my  soul  cries  out,  '  Years,  years  of  starless 
midnight  wanderings,  of  travail,  anguish,  pain,  for 
just  one  moment  at  His  feet ! ' ' 

Yensie's  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  "  Dear  Alice," 
she  said,  "  you  have  suffered  more  than  I  can  even 
picture ;  1  feel  this  sometimes  when  you  talk  with 
me." 

Miss  Grey  lifted  a  little  hand  to  her  trembling 
lips  ere  she  made  answer. 

"  Yes,  darling,  there  are  soul-pangs  which  only 
God  can  fathom,  heart-aches  before  which  the  most 


YENSIE   WALTON.  219 

excruciating  bodily  pain  grows  insignificant.  Out 
through  the  furnace  fires  he  led  me  to  his  breast ; 
over  a  thorny  road,  where  every  brier  tore  my 
heart.  Yet  the  servant  is  not  greater  than  his 
Lord,  and,  wondrous  love,  he  chooses  to  be  no  bet 
ter  off  than  the  weakest  of  his  servants.  The 
flames  which  sought  to  embrace  me  but  wrapped 
the  form  of  one  whose  sheltering  arms  thus  drew 
me  closer,  and  every  thorn  which  pierced  my  feet 
tore  His  as  well.  Ah,  we  forget,"  she  said,  her 
voice  growing  tender  and  her  eyes  wandering  off 
into  the  gathering  shadows,  "  we  forget  He  made  us 
for  His  glory  not  for  our  own  pleasure  ;  and  those 
who  endure  the  most  patiently  most  magnify  His 
grace.  His  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness, 
'  not  weakness  of  faith  but  flesh.'  It  is  written 
that  Christ  glorified  not  himself,  but  Him  who 
said  '  Thou  art  my  son.'  Darling,  God  help  both 
you  and  me  to  pray  out  of  the  deeps  of  our 
full  hearts  the  Saviour's  prayer, '  Father,  glorify  thy 
name.' " 

Yensie  was  sobbing  softly,  her  head  hidden  in 
Miss  Grey's  lap. 

"  Alice,"  she  whispered,  "  must  I,  must  all  true 
Christians  suffer  as  you  have  to  prepare  them  for 
another  world  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  forbid,"  said  Alice,  fervently.  "  My 
dear,  dear  child,  the  Lord  forbid  that  sorrow  like 
that  ever  touch  your  heart !  And  yet,"  she  added, 
"  all  must  suffer  more  or  less.  I  have  found  as  I 


220  YENSIE   WALTON. 

have  passed  through  life  a  universal  LTW,  '  All 
that  \\  ill  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus  shall  suffer,' 
not  only  persecution  from  the  world ;  but  in  body, 
mind,  spirit,  as  others  do  not.  You  may  almost 
always  trace  back  a  rounded  Christian  life  to  sanc 
tified  pain  and  sacrifice.  There  may  be  exceptions, 
I  believe  this  is  the  rule,  and  I  have  thought  some 
times  I  could  see  the  reason.  We  value  that  most 
which  cost  us  much.  If  God  made  us  holy  and 
happy  as  you  say,  without  our  volition,  it  would  be 
at  the  expense  of  our  highest  nature ;  the  breath 
ings  of  Jehovah  whereby  this  clod  became  a  soul 
would  seem  to  be  lost.  Nay,  we  have  sparks  of  the. 
divine  within  us.  He  gives  us  power  to  resist 
him  arid  walk  where  we  will.  But  if  we  once  ac 
knowledge  his  power  and  put  ourselves  in  his 
hands  to  shape  and  mould,  knowing  we  are  weak, 
and  apt  to  stray,  he  presses  near  to  that  we  ask 
arid  crave  at  times,  even  at  the  expense  of  our  ease 
and  joy  at  other  times.  He  answers  our  prayers, 
by  making  us  fulfil  them  even  when  we  shrink 
through  the  weakness  of  the  flesh.  Our  Jesus 
while  here  on  earth  offered  up  prayers  and  suppli 
cations  with  strong  cry  ings  and  tears  unto  Him 
that  was  able  to  save  him  from  death  and  yet  while 
it  is  recorded  that  he  was  heard,  it  is  added, '  Though 
he  were  a  Son,  yet  learned  he  obedience  by  the 
things  which  he  suffered.' '' 

"  Alice,  what  can  it  mean  ?  "  whispered  an  awe 
struck  voice. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  221 

"  We  cannot  fully  know,  my  darling.  But  you 
know,  to  wish  to  obey,  to  intend  or  expect  to  obey 
is  not  obedience,  but  that  which  comes  before  it, 
A  trial  tests  the  reality  of  our  intentions  and  then 
we  obey  or  disobey.  Perhaps  this  means  that  He 
who  had  always  been  obeyed  and  never  before  had 
been  called  upon  to  obey  himself,  found  in  his  new 
humanity  himself  a  subject,  with  his  Father's  com 
mands  upon  him,  and  his  first  opportunity  to  prove 
his  obedience  lay  through  the  path  of  bitter  pain 
and  suffering.  '  In  all  things  it  behooved  him  to 
be  made  like  unto  his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a 
merciful  and  faithful  High  Priest.'  " 

"  Dear  Alice,"  said  Yensie,  "  I  read  a  verse  the 
other  morning  which  has  been  in  my  thoughts  ever 
since.  '  For  it  became  him  for  whom  are  all  things, 
and  by  whom  are  all  things,  in  bringing  many  sons 
unto  glory,  to  make  the  Captain  of  their  salvation 
perfect  through  suffering.' ': 

"  '  For  both  he  that  sanctifieth  and  they  who  are 
sanctified  are  all  of  one,'"  added  Alice,  softly,  with 
closed  eyes,  and  wet  cheeks,  and  lifted,  reverent 
face.  "  Oh,  my  darling,  my  darling,  what  conde 
scension  !  what  love  !  " 

There  was  a  little  hush  for  a  few  moments,  then 
Yensie  whispered,  "But  he  was  always  perfect, 
Alice  ?  " 

"  Yes.  darling,  in  his  divinity,"  she  answered. 
"  O,  Yensie,  this  is  too  great  for  us ;  we  are  but 
mortal.  Through  a  woman's  pangs  he  entered  this 


222  YENSffi  WALTON. 

world  like  YOU  and  I ;  he  then  was  man  ;  and  the 
death  throe  waited  for  him  as  it  waits  for  us,  the 
birth-pang  to  another  world.  There  has  been  but 
one  portal  into  the  invisible  for  Adam's  race,  and 
stooping  to  take  its  weaknesses  he  bowed  his  royal 
head  in  death  and  passed  the  self-same  door  his  sin 
ful  brethren  passed.  Perfect  divinity  and  untried 
humanity  met  in  the  babe  of  Bethlehem,  and  yet  to  be 
a  perfect  Saviour  he  must  be  a  perfect  man  as  well  as 
perfect  God.  Life  met  him  as  it  meets  us,  darling ; 
with  childhood,  home,  mother,  brethren,  friends ; 
he  had  his  loves  and  sorrows  ;  he  graced  the  mar 
riage  feast,  and  stood  beside  the  rock-tomb  of  his 
loved  ;  he  fasted,  wept,  prayed,  groaned.  In  mid 
night  wrestlings  and  in  day-light  toil  he  earned  his 
right  to  stand  as  one  of  us,  '  A  man  of  sorrows  and 
acquainted  with  grief,  aye,  so  well  acquainted !  and 
we  hid  as  it  were  our  faces  from  him.  Oh,  surely 
my  Saviour,  thou  blessed  Son  of  man  and  Son  of 
God,  it  ma}r  be  said  of  thee,  'perfect  through  suffer 
ing.'  Darling,  our  every  woe  he  understands  and 
sympathizes  with,  but  when  we  read  his  life  how 
our  sorrows  sink  into  insignificance  before  this 
agony  we  may  not  fathom.  God  be  praised,  the 
pang  of  pangs  our  mortal  could  not  bear,  the  rueful 
chalice  our  lips  could  not  have  pressed,  he  drained 
unto  its  dregs,  and  crying  '  It  is  finished,'  under  a 
father's  hidden  face  gave  up  his  life  to  death  that 
you  and  I  might  live.  O  Jesus,  man  of  sorrows  I 


YENSEB  WALTON. 


223 


we  thank  thee  that  thy  lifted  head  received  the 
blows  our  sinful  hearts  deserved." 

Miss  Grey's  voice  sank  to  the  faintest  whisper, 
yet  distinct  in  that  hushed  atmosphere  as  she  re 
peated,  " '  Blessing  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  pow 
er  be  unto  him  who  sitteth  upon  the  throne  and 
unto  the  Lamb  forever  and  ever,' "  and  Yensie 
whispered  through  her  tears,  "  Amen." 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


"  Thy  power  and  love  —  my  love  and  trust, 
Make  one  plac"  everywhere." 

—  GEOKGE  HEKBEBT. 


HE  great  storm  delayed  the  bridal  tour  and 
Harry,  with  a  strange  shrinking  from  ap 
pearing  in  the  presence  of  death,  delayed 
his  visit  to  the  farm-house  until  the  afternoon  of 
the  funeral ;  but  Herbert  found  his  way  back  the 
morning  after  the  wedding. 

There  was  something  very  quieting  in  that 
lo\7ely  marble  face  that  lay  half-turned  upon  the 
pillow.  It  seemed  much  more  like  sleep  than 
death.  Refreshing,  reposeful  sleep ;  blessed  — -in 
no  way  disturbed  by  dreams  where  angel  forms 
flitted,  and  spirit  voices  warbled ;  for  on  her  lips 
was  fixed  the  smile  ineffable  with  which  she 
greeted  the  opening  gates  of  paradise. 

224 


YENSIE  WALTON.  225 

Herbert  thought  thus  as  he  stood  and  gazed 
feeling  as  one  might  within  sight  of  home  after 
long  wanderings. 

"  This  is  not  death,"  he  said,  addressing  Yensie 
who  stood  beside  him.  "This  is  not  death  but 
life  :  indestructible,  unconquerable  life  !  She  has 
only  passed  beyond  our  love,  '  into  the  larger  loves 
without  the  touch  of  woe.'  " 

The  next  day  little  Violet  was  buried.  Very 
simple  were  the  services.  At  Mr.  Walton's  re 
quest  Herbert  officiated,  Mr.  Goodale  being  con 
fined  to  the  house. 

Down  through  the  deep  snow  was  dug  for  her  a 
grave,  as  she  had  requested,  beside  the  mossy  tree 
trunk  where  Yensie  loved  to  sit,  under  the  trees 
where  first  she  met  her  dear  Mr.  Harry  and  Mr. 
Herbert.  And  going  back  to  the  farm-house  from 
the  grave  Yensie  began  to  feel  that  utter  desola 
tion  so  familiar  to  all  hearts  which,  stricken  by 
death,  find  the  old  home  repulsive,  and  the  old 
life  but  emptiness,  because  one  is  not  who  once 
gave  home  its  cheerfulness,  and  common  things 
their  grace. 

The  day  after  the  funeral  the  bridal  party  left 
Wynn,  and  Harry  having  said  his  farewell  to 
Yensie  went  too. 

He  had  felt  strangely  towards  the  fair  girl 
throughout  this  trouble  after  the  blow  fell.  That 
calm  uplifting  the,  Christian  receives  in  the  hour  of 
sorrow  awed  him  and  proved  an  effectual  barrier 


226  YENSIE  WALTON. 

in  his  approach  to  her.  She  seemed  suddenly  to 
have  become  a  denizen  of  another  world  as  had 
little  Maude,  and  he  could  not  rid  himself  of  this 
idea,  or  separate  the  two. 

She  was  no  longer  happy,  joyful  Yensie  Walton, 
the  girl  he  had  learned  to  love.  She  was  very  dif 
ferent,  though  not  less  dear  ;  and  sadly  puzzled,  he 
was  almost  glad  that  he  had  pledged  his  mother  to 
accompany  his  uncle,  first  South,  then  across  the 
Atlantic,  hoping  ere  he  returned  she  would  be  her 
self  again. 

Three  days  after  Harry's  departure  Herbert 
said,  "  good-by."  It  grew  very  hard  now  to  live 
the  old  life  and  Yensie  almost  decided  to  go  away 
to  school  at  once. 

But  a  sight  of  Uncle  John's  bowing  form  and 
whitening  hair,  to  whose  life  ten  years  seemed  sud 
denly  added,  rebuked  her  selfishness,  and  she  said, 
"  No,  I  will  stay  if  God  will  help  me,  and  be  a 
woman,  a  Christian,  such  as  he  (thinking  of  Gard- 
enell)  believes  I  am,  worthy  of  his  esteem." 

And  she  was  not  sorry  she  had  so  decided.  There 
was  plenty  of  work  to  be  done,  and  she  did  her 
share.  Never  daughter  sought  more  carefully  to 
anticipate  the  wishes  of  her  parents  than  she  did 
those  of  her  aunt  and  uncle,  laboring  steadily, 
conscientiously,  and  yet  it  was  but  hand-work. 

Not  that  she  intended  it  to  be  such.  She  ear 
nestly  desired  to  comfort  them.  But  in  the  fact 
that  her  own  lips  did  not  smile,  her  own  voice  for- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  227 

got  its  melody,  she  failed  utterly ;  and  to  this 
truth  Fred  suddenly  awaked  her  one  night. 

She  was  sitting  in  the  kitchen  with  folded  hands 
staring  out  of  the  window  in  a  fashion  common  to 
her  of  late,  Jinks  near  by  on  the  settle.  In  the 
dining-room  sat  Aunt  Sarah  knitting  —  she  never 
could  be  idle;  Milly  was  reading  a  trashy  book; 
Uncle  John,  as  was  his  habit  now,  with  open 
Bible  on  his  lap,  head  resting  on  his  hand,  was  try 
ing  to  read  the  Word  while  failing  of  its  meaning. 
Fred  only  was  idle,  and  it  was  his  hand  upon 
her  arm,  his  whisper  in  her  ear  that  roused  Yensie. 

"  Is  little  Violet  happy  ?  "  he  whispered. 

"  Yes,  dear,  of  course.  Happier  than  you  or  I 
can  guess,"  was  the  reply  as  she  stroked  the  red 
hair. 

"  Then  why  ain't  you  happy,  Yensie  ?  "  Then 
not  waiting  for  an  answer,  unconscious  of  the 
horne-thrust  he  had  given  her,  "  I  thought  perhaps 
it  wasn't  true,  what  Mr.  Gardenell  said  about 
heaven  because  you  are  so  different.  I'm  awful 
homesick,  Yensie.  Do  you  s'pose  every  body'll  be 
sad  forever  ?  It's  worse  now  than  the  funeral,  and 
every  day  grows  worse ;  "  and  the  little  fellow 
heaved  a  sigh. 

"  Poor  little  boy,  I  didn't  know  you  felt  so  sad. 
Would  you  like  to  sit  on  my  lap  ?  " 

"  O  Ennie  !  will  you  let  me  ? "  he  cried,  joy 
fully,  using  the  pet  name  caught  from  Maude. 
"  How  good  you  are  !  Do  you  s'pose  you  could 


228  YENSIE   WALTON. 

love  me  a  little  ?  Not  like  you  did  Violet,  "  he 
added,  quickly,  as  if  that  could  not  be  possible, 
"  but  a  little,  you  know.  I'll  try  to  be  real  good  if 
you  will." 

"  I  love  you  a  great  deal  now,  Fred,"  said  the 
girl,  tenderly  drawing  her  arms  closely  about  him. 
It  seemed  so  sweet  to  hold  one  in  her  lap  again. 

"If  you'd  please  sing,"  he  whispered,  hesitat 
ingly.  "  I  always  think  I  can  be  good  when  you 
sing.  I  will  try  to  be  real  good  if  you'll  help  me." 

Yensie  wondered  if  she  could  sing ;  but  Fred 
went  on  :  "  Everybody's  just  awful.  Jinks  nearly 
snapped  my  head  off  because  I  wanted  to  ride  old 
Nance;  mother  looks  so  cross  I'm  afraid  of  her, 
and  father  says  just  nothing  but  '  poor  boy,  poor 
boy,'  to  everything;  then  Mill  she  scolded  because 
I  was  slying  off  my  sled  to  slide  down  hill. 
When  Violet  was  here  she  liked  to  see  me  have  a 
high  old  time,  and  if  she's  the  same  now  I  know 
she's  glad  when  I'm  happy.  Is  it  ever  wrong  to 
be  happy,  Ennie  ?  " 

"  No,  darling,"  kissing  him.  "  What  shall  I 
sing?" 

"  Anything,"  his  head  settling  back  on  her 
shoulder.  "  I  say,  Ennie,  you're  just  boss,  and  I 
love  you." 

Yensie  smiled  and  began  to  sing. 

"  That's  good,"  was  the  comment  ;  "  but  now 
something  jollier,  Yensie." 

Fred  was  sung   to   sleep  that   night.     His  last 


YENSEE  WALTON.  229 

sleepy  words  repaid  his  cousin.  "  You're  nobby. 
See  if  I  don't  lick  Bob  Simonds  if  he  says  again 
that  his  Nell's  as  pretty  as  — "  but  the  sentence 
ended  in  noddy-land. 

Fred  was  not  the  only  one  benefited  by  that  ef 
fort  to  forget  self.  She  did  not  see  Aunt  Sally's 
knitting  drop  from  her  hands,  but  it  did,  while  her 
eyes  grew  dim  with  sweet  remembrance ;  Milly 
closed  her  book,  and  Uncle  John  drank  in  each 
word  and  sound,  wiping  his  wet  cheeks  with  his 
red  handkerchief. 

That  was  the  era  of  a  new  and  better  life. 
Yensie's  Bible  verse  that  night  was,  "  To  him  that 
overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit  with  me  in  my 
throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame,  and  am  set  down 
with  my  father  in  his  throne."  She  implored  for 
giveness  that  night  for  the  half-heartedness  of  her 
labor  for  those  about  her,  and  for  the  selfish  grief 
which  she  had  cherished. 

The  morning  sun  henceforth  greeted  her  carol 
already  begun,  and  the  cheerful  breakfast  table, 
with  its  steaming  fritters,  found  better  appetites 
than  it  was  wont. 

The  spirit  with  which  we  labor  has  much  to  do 
with  results ;  henceforth  things  changed.  Not 
that  she  did  any  more,  but  did  it  all  so  differently. 
She  did  not  always  find  it  easy  to  be  cheerful,  she 
longed  sometimes  to  go  away  and  weep  over  her 
sorrow,  but  she  had  become  an  overcomer. 

So  the  weeks  grew  to  months  and   under  the 


230  YENSIE   WALTON. 

spell  of  her  song  her  uncle  found  easier  access  to 
the  throne.  The  Bible  verses  too  hard  for  him  to 
understand,  the  hymns  made  plain  ;  and  doctrines 
which  had  perplexed  his  brain  found  easy  solution 
to  his  heart,  thus  breathed  in  verse. 

Every  night  now  Yensie  sang  at  Fred's  bedside, 
and  just  as  regularly  her  aunt  sat  below  with  idle 
knitting  in  her  lap  and  half  closed  eyes ;  and 
Uncle  John  lay  listening  eagerly,  and  Jinks  drew 
his  chair  closer  to  the  open  door,  left  so  by  Mil 
dred,  that  they  might  hear  the  better. 

So  life  passed  quietly,  prosily,  and  Yensie  lived 
her  better  life  by  God's  help  every  day,  and  fought 
her  battles  nightly  all  alone.  Unknown  to  any 
but  the  loving,  listening  Saviour  her  cries  for 
strength  to  overcome  arose,  and  the  little  attic 
became  a  Bethel,  and  the  ladder  resting  there  with 
its  summit  pierced  the  skies  and  messages  of  hope 
and  cheer,  God's  love  to  her  and  promises  of  aid 
came  over  its  rounds  borne  by  swift-footed  mes 
sengers.  The  inner  life  grew  stronger,  the  outer 
fruit  more  robust,  and  those  about  her  felt,  if  they 
did  not  acknowledge  this. 

The  weeks  flew  by  and  the  winter  term  would 
soon  be  ended  and  Alice  Grey  gone.  Yensie  had 
seen  but  little  of  her  friend  since  Violet's  death 
for  Alice  grew  increasingly  feeble,  and  felt  it 
quite  enough  for  her  strength  to  do  what  she 
must,  and  Yensie's  hands  had  never  been  so  full. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  231 

Since  she  had  taken  Fred  to  her  heart,  he  had 
added  largely  to  her  work.  All  his  troubles  and 
perplexities  were  brought  to  her  for  solution ;  all 
accidents  in  the  shape  of  soiled  handkerchiefs  and 
torn  pants,  she  was  expected  to  make  good ;  and 
difficult  problems  and  tormenting  geography  les 
sons  must  be  made  plain  by  her  patient  explana 
tions. 

Indeed,  the  whole  family  unconsciously  began 
to  lean  on  her.  While  it  was  delightful  to  her  to 
have  it  so,  she  was  thus  often  shut  out  from  Miss 
Grey's  society  —  only  a  few  minutes'  talk  on  the 
Sabbath  in  the  vestry,  and  a  half  hour  now  and  then 
granted  her,  and  in  those  times  she  had  never  been 
able  to  give  vent  to  even  a  little  of  the  pain  and 
loneliness  gathering  in  her  breast. 

One  morning  late  in  February  she  arose  with  an 
intense  desire  to  see  her  friend.  The  day  was 
balm}r  and  spring-like,  and  every  time  she  opened 
the  outer  door  and  caught  a  draught  of  the  fresh, 
sweet  air  the  longing  grew  more  intense  to  be  out 
of  the  hot  kitchen,  out  of  the  hard  work,  to  be 
able  to  do  and  go  as  she  pleased. 

She  dropped  a  word  before  Mrs.  Walton,  show 
ing  her  desire  to  get  through  early  and  spend  the 
afternoon  with  Miss  Grey,  but  her  aunt  took  no  no 
tice  whatever  of  her  words,  and  it  did  seem  as  if 
there  never  was  so  much  to  do  before. 

Everything  conspired  to  delay  her,  and  in  the  af- 


232  YENSIE  WALTON. 

ternoon  when  she  thought  all  done  her  uncle  came 
in  with  his  account-book  for  her  to  look  over. 
When  the  last  item  had  been  attended  to,  the  last 
column  added,  she  pushed  the  book  impatiently 
from  her  and  lifting  her  flushed  face  to  the  clock 
found  it  was  nearly  four. 

"  It  is  110  use,"  she  said,  bitterly,  resting  her  fe 
verish  face  011  her  hands,  so  disappointed  she  could 
have  wept. 

Mrs.  Walton  saw  the  movement,  heard  her  words, 
as  she  stepped  into  the  room,  and  stopping  before 
the  table  she  said,  kindly,  "I  would  go  just  the 
same,  Yerisie.  You  can  stay  with  Miss  Grey  all 
night ;  we  shall  not  need  you  again  before  morn- 

ing." 

How  quickly  the  brown  head  came  up.  "  How 
good  you  are,"  cried  the  impulsive  child,  tears  ac 
tually  in  her  eyes  now  at  these  unusual  words.  "  I 
am  so  glad,"  and  before  long  she  was  dressed  and 
ready  to  depart. 

Had  Yensie's  words  of  praise  thawed  Aunt  Sa 
rah's  ice  ?  Be  that  as  it  may,  as  the  slight,  girlish 
figure  halted  for  a  minute  before  the  door,  she  called 
out,  "  You  needn't  hurry  in  the  morning,  we  sha'n't 
have  much  to  do  to-morrow,"  and  darted  back, 
shutting  the  door  as  if  she  feared  an  answer. 

There  was  a  little  snow  on  the  ground,  the  air 
had  grown  colder  since  morning,  and  the  young 
girl  liked  the  sound  of  the  frozen  snow  beneath  her 


YENSLE  WALTON.  233 

feet.  It  seemed  like  companionship  on  that  lonely 
road,  where  everything  was  very  still. 

Suddenly,  as  she  was  about  to  turn  into  the  vil 
lage  street,  she  swung  around  and  took  her  way 
straight  up  over  the  snowy  path,  so  often  trod  in 
other  days,  with  Violet  beside  her,  not  halting  until 
she  stood  beside  her  old-time  seat  with  the  tiny 
grave  beside  it. 

Snow  —  spotless,  pure,  undisturbed,  covered  the 
little  mound  and  spread  its  undefiled  whiteness  all 
around  where  only  a  few  months  before  her  dar 
ling  plucked  the  springing  flowers  to  deck  Harry 
Campbell's  hat,  and  for  Herbert's  wee  bouquet. 

As  she  stood  there  remembrance  of  that  day  and 
all  they  said  about  the  sweet  child  she  loved,  and  of 
the  long  conversation  prior  to  the  coming  of  the 
young  men  when  Maude  had  told  her  of  her  prayer 
to  go,  and  begged  her  not  to  keep  her,  came  over 
Yensie  ;  and  kneeling  down  beside  the  mound  she 
bowed  her  head  and  wept. 

Wept  that  the  past  was  past,  and  never  could  be 
present  again ;  wept  that  her  heart  was  so  lonely  ; 
wept  out  the  gathered,  stifled,  restrained  pain  of 
many  weeks. 

When  a  little  after  she  presented  herself  at  Miss 
Grey's  door,  the  signs  of  tears  were  still  upon  her 
face,  for  somehow  the  fountain  loosed,  so  long  held 
in  check,  would  overflow  in  spite  of  every  effort  at 
control,  and  it  had  been  with  difficulty  she  retained 
her  self-possession,  even  on  the  street. 


234  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  My  dear,  dear  child,"  said  Alice,  tenderly, 
"  what  troubles  you  ?  "  and  completely  overcome 
by  the  kindly  tone,  the  maiden  threw  herself  upon 
the  bed  and  wept  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would 
break. 

Alice  drew  a  chair  close  to  her  side,  but  did  not 
speak  to  her.  Now  and  again  she  laid  a  soothing 
hand  upon  the  half -exposed,  flushed  cheek,  but  that 
was  all. 

By  and  by  the  sobs  grew  fainter,  and  less  fre 
quent,  then  they  were  lost  in  sighs,  then  subdued 
altogether,  and  Yensie  lifted  her  head  and  said,  re 
proachfully  : 

"  I  am  so  selfish,  so  thoughtless,  Alice,  to  trouble 
you  with  my  grief,  but,"  and  she  struggled  for  con 
trol  ;  "  but  I  have  been  restraining  it  so  long,  so 
long  trying  to  be  cheerful  and  happy,  while  my 
heart  ached,  that  I  could  stand  it  no  longer.  O 
Alic^,  I  miss  her,  I  don't  know  how  to  live  in  the 
world  without  her  ;  every  hour  of  every  day  it  be 
comes  harder,  more  unbearable.  I  know,  I  know 
you  will  tell  me  she  is  safe,  is  happy,  but,  Alice 
darling,  I  believe  that  now,  already,  always  have, 
and  yet  my  heart  will  ache." 

Miss  Grey's  gentle  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  "  My 
dear  child,  we  are  all  alike,  'the  spirit  is  willing, 
but  the  flesh  is  weak.'  You  would  not  take  her 
from  God,  and  yet  'tis  hard  to  live  without  her." 

"  Yes,  that  is  it,  Alice.  I  am  afraid  sometimes  it 
may  be  wrong  to  grieve  so  for  her." 


YENSIE   WALTON.  235 

"  '  He  remembereth  we  are  but  dust,'  "  quoted 
Alice.  "  '  He  remembereth.  It  is  lawful  to  weep, 
and  after  all,  this  sudden  outbreak  is  but  nature 
avensrinsr  herself,  and  beating  down  the  barriers 

o       o  o 

with  which  you  have  tried  to  obstruct  her  free 
course.  Resignation  does  not  mean  tearlessness. 
God  forbid  !  to  be  natural  is  seldom  to  be  sinful.  He 
gave  us  tears  to  ease  our  pain.  Jesus  wept  and  for 
ever  dignified  tearful  grief.  They  who  think  it  a 
lack  of  manly  or  womanly  strength  to  weep  need  to 
study  afresh  the  only  perfect  model  of  character 
the  world  affords." 

"  Alice,"  questioned  Yensie,  "  did  you  ever  lose 
a  dear  friend  ?  Your  father  is  dead  I  know,  but  did 
you  ever  have  a  little  sister  or  friend  whom  you 
loved  as  I  have  loved  Violet  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  had  a  sister,  a  very  dear  sister,"  answer 
ed  the  lady,  tremulously. 

"  Where  is  she  now?  Is  she  dead ? "  queried  the 
girl  interested.  Miss  Grey  had  never  even  intima 
ted  before,  that  she  had  ever  had  a  sister  and  now 
she  spoke  with  seeming  reluctance. 

"  Yes,  she  is  dead,"  was  the  quiet  reply. 

"  Did  she  die  when  she  was  young  like  my  Vio 
let  ?  "  continued  the  girl. 

"  No,  no,"  sighed  Alice,  softly,  and  then  with  a 
vehemence  unusual  to  her,  she  added,  "  God  knows 
out  of  the  depths  of  an  agonizing  heart  I  have 
often  wished  she  had.  O  Yensie,  my  darling,  my 
darling,"  she  cried,  drawing  the  young  girl  to  her 


236  YENSIE   WALTON. 

embrace,  while  tears  sprang  to  her  eyes,  "  You 
weep  for  little  Maude  as  those  with  hope  weep,  but 
I  — I  —  ' 

She  did  not  finish  what  she  seemed  about  to  say, 
but  with  touching  pathos,  as  she  took  a  slender, 
girlish  hand  in  both  of  hers,  added  more  gently, 
"  I  do  not  sorrow,  my  Yensie,  for  the  little  one. 
She  has  left  earth-life  and  its  issues  far  behind  her 
arid  entered  the  God-life  whose  experiences  and 
joys  are  not  subject  to  Time's  fluctuating  breezes. 
It  is  for  you,  my  darling,  I  sometimes  tremble,  for 
you  I  sometimes  grieve  ;  for  time  is  yet  upon  you 
with  all  its  terrible  possibilities  of  sin  and  suffer 
ing,  of  pain  and  grieving.  Your  peculiar  temper 
ament  is  fraught  with  great  temptations,  dangers  ; 
I  sometimes  shudder  when  I  think  one  single 
hour,  one  little  word,  may  swing  your  life  into  new 
channels  of  joy  and  pain,  of  untold  responsibility." 

"  When  reading  in  your  face  sometimes  the 
power  that  God  has  given  you  to  will,  to  do,  to 
suffer,  I  almost  wish  I  could  stand  over  your  last 
resting  place  conscious  that  only  this  wee  brittle 
thread  of  life  was  all  that  separated  us  forever. 
Yet  do  not  think,  dear  child,  this  is  because  I  have 
no  confidence  in  you  or  in  my  God.  I  know  at 
last  your  life  must  result  in  victory,  its  every  ele 
ment,  even  the  rue  and  gall,  enhance  that  victory ; 
but,  darling,  I  have  suffered,  and  human-like,  I 
shrink  from  seeing  the  cup  so  bitter  to  my  taste 
pressed  to  my  child's  lips  though  lifted  by  a 


YENSIE   WALTON.  237 

Father's  hand,  and  cry  out  ere  I  am  aware,  '  give  it 
to  me,  my  Father,  but  spare  her.'  " 

Yensie  was  sobbing  softly,  her  head  in  Miss 
Grey's  lap,  but  her  friend  did  not  seem  to  notice 
this. 

"Yensie,  my  darling,"  she  said,  "tell  me  of 
those  young  men  who  attended  Violet's  funeral. 
Did  they  love  her  because  they  loved  you  mere  ? 
Are  they  nothing  to  you,  or  very  much  ?  " 

To  say  the  maiden  was  astonished  by  the  abrupt 
questioning,  would  but  poorly  represent  her  feel 
ings  just  then.  The  shapely  head  rose  proudly 
from  its  resting  place ;  the  dark  eyes  flashed  out 
through  their  tears  ;  the  young  face  flushed  indig 
nantly  :  How  dare  Miss  Grey,  how  dare  anybody 
question  her  thus  ? 

"  Alice  how  can  you  ask  me  ? "  she  cried,  im 
petuously.  "  What  can  they  be  to  me  ?  " 

"  Whatever  they  may  be  to  you,"  returned  the 
teacher  quietly,  "  you  are  certainly  very  much 
to  at  least  one  of  them." 

"And  pray  how  can  I  help  that?"  cried  the 
young  girl  hotly ;  "  am  I  responsible  for  the  feel 
ings  of  every  young  man  who  chooses  to  fall  in 
love  with  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  Miss  Grey,  calmly,  "  you  are  re 
sponsible  just  so  far  as  you  fail  to  discourage  that 
feeling  if  not  reciprocated." 

"  Then,"  said  Yensie,  still  excitedly,  "  I  am 
expected  to  hail  every  young  man  who  approaches 


238  TENSES  WALTON. 

my  uncle's  house  and  ask  him  if  he  comes  on  pur 
pose  to  see  me,  or  shall  I  label  myself  unapproach 
able?" 

"  Yensie  !  "  Alice  only  spoke  the  one  word,  but 
there  were  volumes  of  reproach  in  it. 

"  Dear  Alice,"  said  the  girl  more  calmly,  "  it 
seems  so  absurd  for  }TOU  to  talk  to  me  like  this ;  I 
am  so  young  —  too  young  to  dream  of  such  things." 

"  True,  3'ou  are  young,"  was  the  reply,  "  yet 
many  as  young  as  you  take  a  false  step  here  and 
live  to  repent  it  through  long  years.  If  these 
things  had  not  come  to  you,  darling,  if  I  had 
thought  it  possible  no  dreams  of  these  young  men 
would  ever  cross  your  thoughts,  I  would  never 
have  spoken  thus." 

"  Then  do  not  say  another  word,  clear  Alice," 
pleaded  the  girl.  "  I  thought  you  knew  me  better," 
she  said,  rising  and  walking  to  the  window.  "I 
am  ambitious  Alice  Grey,  ambitious  !  See  !  "  she 
cried,  pointing  to  where  the  coming  stars  were 
sparkling  above  her ;  "  I  tell  you  my  hopes,  my 
hopes,"  with  proud  emphasis  on  the  personal  pro 
noun,  "  are  not  less  high,  or  bright,  or  numerous 
than  those  fair  constellations." 

"  Others  have  aimed  as  high  and  failed,"  said 
Alice,  gently. 

"  But  I  will  not,"  retorted  the  young  girl  with 
glowing  face  and  shining  eyes ;  "  I  will  not.  I  tell 
you  I  have  too  much  ahead  of  me  to  spare  the 


YENSIE  WALTON.  239 

time  to  think  of  love.  That  is  for  others,  for  me 
is  fame." 

Miss  Grey  sighed.  "  Come  here,"  she  said ; 
"  come  sit  beside  me,  and  let  me  tell  you  that  after 
all  you  are  a  woman,  and  woman's  heart  through 
all  the  world  and  under  any  guise  cannot  be  satis 
fied  with  less  than  love.  You  have  answered  my 
question  however ;  you  do  not  love  yet,  with  this 
I  will  try  to  be  satisfied." 

But  Yensie  did  not  sit  down.  She  walked  up 
and  down  the  room  nervously,  her  face  radiant 
with  the  aspirations  throbbing  so  wildly  through 
each  pulse.  "  O  Alice  I  feel  great  powers  stirring 
within  me,"  she  said,  "great  possibilities,  great 
possibilities,  and  I  must  prove  them.  Sometimes 
the  world  stretches  out  so  temptingly,  so  glori 
ously  before  me,  I  long  to  be  done  with  school, 
I  pant  for  the  girding  for  battle,  for  the  noise  of 
conflict.  I  have  no  time  to  think  of  love,  no 
time." 

"  Unfortunately,"  said  Alice  Grey,  "  love  waits 
not  time  or  season,  it  comes  when  it  wills  and  stays 
whether  we  will  or  not.  If  fame  fail  us  love  will 
still  satisfy  if  we  possess  it  ;  but  an  unsatisfied 
heart  can  never  be  filled  with  earth's  adulations. 
Darling,  it  is  in  the  affections  a  woman  is  made  or 
marred,  built  up  or  ruined,  so  I  warn  you." 

"  You  do  not  understand  me,"  said  Yensie  ;  "  no 
one  does." 

Alice  smiled,  but  rising  she  drew  the  young  girl 


240  YENSIB   WALTON. 

to  a  seat  and  as  she  took  both  hands  said,  earnestly, 
"  I  think,  ray  dear,  I  do  understand  you  very  well. 
I  would  not  undervalue  your  abilities,  your  capaci 
ties.  My  darling,  ever}*-  new  power  I  have  seen  de 
velop  in  you  I  have  hailed  with  trembling,  for  it 
may  be,  and  often  is,  but  added  power  to  suffer. 
The  more  we  have  the  more  can  we  lose  and  the 
more  terrible  is  our  loss  when  all  goes.  The  more 
delicate  and  intricate  the  machinery  the  more  read 
ily  is  it  injured.  I  have  thought  a  great  deal  of 
that  talk  we  had  together  while  little  Maude  lay 
waiting  burial.  You  spoke  of  Farmer  Boyd.  His 
very  bluntness  of  perception  would  make  it  impos 
sible  for  him  to  suffer  acutely.  That  which  could 
hurt  a  nature  like  yours,  he  could  not  comprehend 
or  fathom.  I  think  sometimes,  in  like  manner,  that 
it  is  because  we,  the  best  of  us  are  so  much  coarser 
in  our  organization,  so  much  more  blunted  in  our 
perceptions  than  our  Saviour,  that  we  cannot  more 
fully  understand  his  human  agony.  There  is  some 
thing  wonderful  in  this  ability  to  suffer,  something 
incomprehensible.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  finer 
the  sensibilities,  the  more  delicate  the  organization, 
the  more  susceptible  to  every  thrill  of  higher 
thought  and  feeling,  the  so  much  more  like  God  it 
seemed ;  the  so  much  more  it  could,  must,  yea  is 
called  upon,  to  endure.  The  harp  of  a  thousand 
strings  responds  to  a  master  touch  and  so  Jehovah's 
hand  presses  most  often  the  finer  instruments  (if 
we  may  so  speak),  the  nebel  dsdr,  that  he  may  in- 


YENSIB  WALTON".  241 

voke  the  sweeter  melody.  We  might  not  know, 
the  world  might  never  know  the  deepest,  purest, 
holiest  depths  of  redeemed  humanity  without  that 
forceful  pressure. 

"Strike,  Thou  the  Master,  we  thy  keys, 
The  anthem  of  the  destinies  ! 
The  minor  of  thy  loftier  strain, 
Our  hearts  shall  breathe  the  old  refrain, 
Thy  will  be  done!'" 

There  was  unbroken  silence  in  the  chamber  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  when  Yensie  spoke,  her  tone  was 
hushed  and  awe-struck. 

"  Alice,  you  frighten  me.  I  ask  God  so  often  to 
make  me  pure  and  holy,  to  give  the  greatest  possi 
ble  likeness  to  himself  here  and  a  home  with  him 
hereafter,  and  it  is  not  all  lip-service.  Yet  at  times 
this  restless  ambition  so  gees  the  better  of  me. 
What  may  not  I  have  to  bear  to  have  my  own 
prayers  answered  ?  " 

"  He  knows,  my  darling,"  was  the  reply.  "  '  Per 
fect  love  casteth  out  fear,'  trust  him ;  he  will 
answer  your  petition,  he  must,  but  be  sure  he  will 
not  give  you  more  than  you  can  bear.  Just  where 
the  cloud  becomes  too  black,  the  burden  too  heavy 
to  bear,  he  will  appear,  supplementing,  reinforcing ; 
not  always  lifting  you  out  of  the  pain,  but  alwa}*s 
giving  you  grace  sufficient  for  its  bearing.  I  have 
thought  it  was  worth  all  the  anguish  and  the  hard 
ship,  that  realization  comes  to  us  ever  and  again 
amid  the  difficulties  apparently  insuperable,  of  the 


242  YENSIE   WALTON. 

colossal  strength,  the  infinite  wisdom  back  of  all, 
under  all,  supporting  all.  Then  too,  darling,  we 
only  live  one  day  at  a  time ;  the  apostle  saj's,  '  suf 
ficient  unto  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.'  Let  us 
thank  him  for  to-day's  grace,  and  trust  him  for  to 
morrow's.  Trouble  comes  soon  enough  without 
forecasting,  and  thank  God  his  grace  comes  also. 
We  can  do  all  things  through  Christ  which  strength- 
eneth  us,  yes,  and  bear  all  things." 

Then  with  arms  about  each  other  they  sang, 
"  Nearer  my  God  to  thee." 

As  they  ended  the  verse  beginning,  "  But  if  on 
angel  wing  cleaving  the  sky,"  Yensie  whispered, 
"  Alice,  all  have  not  the  discipline  of  pain.  My  lit 
tle  Violet  went  out  from  earth  before  its  heaviest 
burdens  touched  her.  She  was  not  called  through 
the  travail  of  Gethsemane." 

"  No,  there  is  another  preparation  for  some  before 
they  become  perfect  immortals,  that  is  purified  souls 
in  glorified  bodies,"  replied  Miss  Grey.  "  Only 
when  Christ  comes  does  the  resurrection  power 
make  immortality  perfect.  In  that  life  between  so 
purely  spiritual,  our  departed  may  be  receiving  the 
same  fitness  that  in  other  ways  we  receive  here. 
Let  us  be  trustful,  and  whether  here  or  there,  in 
earth  or  paradise,  still  praise  him  that  the  good  work 
may  go  on.  Some  day  seeing  the  'need  be  '  of  our 
sorest  discipline,  out  of  full,  overflowing  hearts, 
we  shall  thank  him  for  all.  Yea,  even  here  often 
times  we  catch  a  glimmer  of  the  meaning  of  such 


YENSIE  WALTON.  243 

pain.  This  night,"  she  continued,  lifting  her  rev 
erent  eyes  upward,  "  this  night  I  thank  him  for  the 
every  pang,  the  every  sorrow  that  has  touched  my 
life,  '  for  out  of  my  bitterest  bitter,  I've  gathered 
my  sweetest  sweet,'  and  without  it  he  only  knows 
what  I  might  have  been." 

"  Alice,"  questioned  the  young  girl,  "  would  it 
pain  you  very  much  to  tell  me  a  little  of  your  life 
and  of  your  sister  ?  " 

"It  is  a  very  sad  story,  darling,"  replied  the 
lady,  "  and  yet  I  would  not  shrink  from  it  if  it 
might  do  you  good.  I  have  thought  sometimes  it 
might,  but  the  story  is  long  and  it  is  growing  late." 

"  I  am  to  stay  all  night,  I  forgot  to  tell  vou  be 
fore,"  interrupted  the  girl. 

Miss  Grey  did  not  speak  for  a  moment,  then  she 
stopped  and  kissed  the  young  face  lifted  to  hers. 
"  This  is  the  time,  perhaps ;  God  grant  you  may 
profit  by  the  sad  recital." 

So  after  supper,  sitting  together  in  the  dart,  with 
only  the  stars  for  company,  Alice  Grey  began. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


'  O  gold  of  trial  I    O  crimson  of  pain  ! 
Touches  of  frost  and  the  chilling  rain 
Have  wrought  out  your  beautiful  coloring  — 
Life  is  made  perfect  through  suffering." 

—  L.  J.  D. 


S  I  have  told  you  before,"  said  Alice,  my 
father  died  when  I  was  quite  young  and 
my  sister  not  much  more  than  a  babe. 
He  was  a   sea-captain   and,   lost  in   mid-ocean, 
lea-rang  my  mother  and  her  two  children  to  fight 
their  own  way  through  the  world. 

"  Mother  owned  the  little  sea-side  cottage  where 
I  was  born  and  had  beside  a  small  patrimony,  and 
by  careful  management  and  occasional  additions 
resulting  from  her  own  exertions  she  brought  us 
up  well  and  educated  us. 

"  I  had   always   been   an   ambitious   child,  and 
knowing  this,  and  as  well,  my  father's  intentions 
concerning  me,  she  did  her  utmost  towards  giving 
244 


YENSIE   WALTON.  245 

me  the  culture  I  craved,  sending  me  for  two  years 
to  boarding-school  after  I  had  received  what  my 
pastor's  wife  at  the  little  village  had  thought  ne 
cessary  as  a  preparation.  "  My  sister  Lois  was  four 
years  younger  than  I,  much  more  active  and  mis 
chief-loving  and  withal  very  beautiful.  She  was 
the  idol  of  my  childhood.  To  twine  her  curls  and 
decorate  her  person  and  so  present  her  to  my 
friends  was  the  delight  of  my  younger  years,  and 
it  was  much  the  same  as  we  drew  nearer  woman 
hood.  If  my  darling  was  well-dressed  and  adorned 
I  was  satisfied,  though  I  might  be  barely  passable. 

"  She  was  a  quick,  bright  girl,  learning  readily, 
but  caring  little  to  exert  herself ;  and  so  it  hap 
pened  that  I  carried  her  over  the  harder  parts  of 
her  studies  writing  many  of  her  compositions,  and 
translating  her  Latin. 

"  She  was  ardent  and  affectionate,  and  more 
than  repaid  rne  with  her  love.  She  had  an  exceed 
ingly  sweet,  clear  voice.  I  think  perhaps  my  first 
attraction  to  you,  darling,  was  that  I  fancied  your 
voice  resembled  hers,  though  so  much  more  power 
ful  and  pliant. 

"  When  I  was  about  twenty,  Lois  sixteen, 
mother  let  the  cottage  and  moved  to  the  city. 
She  had  quite  run  through  with  her  small  estate 
and  thought  we  would  find  better  employment  in 
the  great  metropolis. 

"  In  various  ways  I  had  earned  a  little  and  was 
possessor  of  a  small  sum  of  money,  enough  to  pay 


246  YENSEB   WAI/TOF. 

for  a  finishing  course  at  school,  and  by  sewing  at 
night  I  added  to  the  home-fund  while  pursuing  my 
studies. 

"  Lois  had  tired  of  school  and  wished  to  learn  a 
trade,  and  my  mother  yielded  to  her  entreaties, 
and  she  entered  a  millinery  establishment. 

"  While  away  at  school,  two  years  before,  I  had 
formed  an  attachment  for  a  young  man  named 
Walter  Wilde.  O  darling,  there  is  music  in  his 
name  even  yet  to  me  !  He  was  handsome,  tal 
ented,  good  I  thought,  and  when  he  asked  me  to 
be  his  wife  I  pledged  my  hand  where  my  heart 
had  already  surrendered  itself,  most  joyfnlly. 

"  Yensie,  I  can  never  tell  you  how  I  loved  that 
man.  Some  day  you  may  learn  from  experience 
what  I  mean  when  I  say  I  would  have  willingly 
laid  down  the  most  cherished  hopes  of  my  life,  the 
tenderest  ties  that  bound  me,  to  please  him,  yea, 
hesitated  not  to  die  could  he  thereby  be  made  hap 
pier.  He  was  ambitious,  though  poor,  and  had  the 
law  in  view,  and  my  great  desire  was  to  make  my 
self  worthy  to  be  his  wife ;  to  obtain  the  outside 
polish  in  which  I  knew  he  so  delighted,  that  I 
might  stand  beside  him  one  of  whom  he  need  not 
be  ashamed. 

'•  I  had  rejoiced  in  the  thought  of  coming  to  the 
city  because  I  should  be  near  him,  for  there  he  re 
sided  ;  and  with  pride  and  delight  I  introduced 
him  to  my  mother  and  sister  who  had  never  met 
him  before  though  they  were  acquainted  with  the 


YENSEB   WALTON.  247 

relations  that  stood  between  us.  I  felt  so  proud 
that  night  of  my  lady  mother,  my  beautiful,  light- 
hearted  sister,  and  he  seemed  delighted  with  them. 

"  The  first  few  months  after  our  arrival  in  the 
city,  Walter  visited  our  house  constantly  ;  by  and 
by  less  frequently,  and  at  length  only  once  or 
twice  in  the  course  of  weeks.  But  this  caused  no 
uneasiness  on  my  part.  He  pleaded  business,  and 
much  as  I  regretted  his  absence,  I  only  felt  that  as 
he  said,  it  only  hastened  the  day  when  he  should 
be  able  to  claim  me  altogether,  and,  foolish  child, 
I  loved  him  better  and  thanked  God. 

"  So  one  year  passed.  Lois  would  tell  me  some 
times,  laughingly,  that  she  walked  to  the  shop 
with  my  gentleman,  and  inquire  if  I  did  not  feel 
jealous.  But  their  roads  crossed  and  I  never 
dreamed  of  danger  or  harbored  a  jealous  pang. 

'•But  my  sister  was  changing  fast.  She  was 
out  more  evenings.  My  mother  opposed  this  at 
first,  but  finally  yielded  as  she  generally  did  to 
this  her  favorite  child,  and  as  Lois  always  had 
some  plausible  excuse — a  concert,  fair  or  friendly 
gathering  —  I  think  my  mother  did  not  feel  alarmed. 

"  It  was  in  my  fond  heart  fear  first  took  root. 
This  child  was  life  of  my  life  ;  I  could  have  yielded 
anything  to  enhance  her  joy,  unless  indeed  this 
new  great  treasure  of  Walter  Wilde's  love,  and 
somehow  I  felt,  between  us  was  growing  up  some 
barrier,  —  what,  I  could  never  understand  —  some 


248  YENSIE   WALTON. 

great  cloud  shadowing  the  freedom  of  intercourse 
that  had  hitherto  been  ours. 

"  I  tried  to  break  this  down,  to  step  over  it,  but 
vainly ;  for  though  she  laughed  at  my  words  of 
trembling,  it  was  constrained  laughter,  unlike  the 
overflowing  mirth  of  other  days,  and  somehow  my 
darling  seemed  slipping  from  my  grasp. 

"  Once  it  seemed  to  me  that  my  little  sister  might 
be  in  love,  as  I  had  been,  and  feared  to  tell  me.  So 
one  night  after  we  had  retired  (we  always  slept 
together)  I  threw  my  arms  about  her  and  chided 
her  for  lack  of  confidence.  She  shrank  from  me  as 
if  I  had  bitten  her,  and  turned  her  back  without 
one  word.  Ah  me  !  I  could  not  understand  it 
then !  But  from  the  shadow  thus  creeping  between 
us  two  I  turned  with  fresh  delight,  to  revel  in  a 
love  I  fondly  thought  beyond  the  power  of  blight 
or  death,  a  harbinger  of  sure  coming  bliss. 

"  I  saw  less  and  less  of  Walter ;  Lois  became 
more  and  more  reserved ;  even  my  mother  noticed 
her  unusual  taciturnity,  for  she  had  been  so  gay  a 
child,  so  musical  a  bird. 

"  At  last  the  blow  fell.  At  the  very  worst  I 
never  dreamed  it  could  have  been  so  bad.  Lois 
came  home  one  evening  feeling  ill.  She  ex 
cused  herself  and  retired,  declaring  she  only  need 
ed  rest.  But  I  feared  she  was  very  sick  and  after 
she  was  in  bed  sought  her  side,  begging  to  know 
if  there  was  anything  I  could  do,  anything  I  could 
get  for  her. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  249 

"  She  answered  me  very  crossly,  poor  little  girl, 
poor  little  girl,  and  going  away  in  tears  I  sent  moth 
er  to  her  side.  But  she  would  have  neither  of  us, 
only  requesting  to  be  left  quiet  and  asking  my 
mother  to  share  her  bed  with  me  that  night  as  she 
would  rest  better  alone. 

"  Yensie,  before  the  morning  broke  Lois  was 
dead !  Yes,  in  the  night  mother  and  I  were  awak 
ened  by  groans  proceeding  from  her  room.  We  flew 
to  her  bedside,  and  summoned  a  physician.  In  a 
little  while  a  babe  was  born.  I,  in  my  innocence, 
and  mother  in  her  guilelessness,  had  never  thought 
of  this,  and  Lois  was  very  feeble. 

"  The  doctor  left  a  quieting  potion  and  departed 
hoping,  he  said,  to  find  her  better  in  the  morning. 
The  dear  girl  lay  all  night  speechless  and  yet  with 
wide-open,  yearning  eyes  fixed  always  upon  me. 
O  Yensie,  I  shall  never  forget  those  eyes,  those 
dear  blue  eyes  I  loved  so  well  following  me  with 
such  a  look  of  heart-breaking  interest. 

"  Once  I  stooped  over  her  and  whispered,  '  Lois, 
dear  sister,  it  is  all  right,  I  love  you,  darling,'  but 
she  only  answered,  faintly,  '  you  don't  know.'  Just 
after  mother  asked  me  quietly  if  I  knew  who 
baby's  father  could  be.  She  caught  the  question, 
and  said  distinctly :  (how  that  knell  rings  in  my 
ears !  )  *  Walter  Wilde. ' 

"  I  turned  away  my  head,  I  thought  that  I  was 
dying.  My  mother  seeing  I  was  faint  pushed  me 


250  YENSIE   WALTON. 

into  a  chair  and  lay  my  head  back  beside  the  shin 
ing  locks  of  Lois. 

"  She  put  her  hand  up  feebly  to  my  face  and 
whispered  '  forgive.'  Thank  God  I  had  grace 
enough  to  kiss  the  hand  and  tell  her  she  was  for 
given.  She  smiled  and  pointed  to  her  babe.  I 
understood  and  told  her  I  would  love  and  guard  it 
as  my  own ;  then  she  shut  her  eyes  as  if  satisfied 
and  turned  her  head  upon  the  pillow  as  if  to  sleep. 

"  I  crushed  the  bitter  anguish  of  my  own  heart 
back  that  hour,  and  whispered  to  her  of  the 
blessed  Christ,  the  forgiveness  prepared  for  all  who 
only  trust,  who  only  look  to  him.  She  did  not 
speak,  but  she  opened  her  eyes  just  .once  and 
looked  at  me  and  they  were  full  of  tears.  When 
the  morning  dawned  I  folded  her  dead  hands  on 
her  pulseless  breast  and  crept  away  to  talk  with 
God. 

"I  had  called  myself  a  Christian,  Yensie  darling, 
before  this ;  I  had  taken  on  Christian  baptism  the 
winter  after  I  pledged  myself  to  Walter  Wilde. 
f  think  it  was  the  thankfulness  that  pervaded  my 
heart  at  thought  of  Walter's  love  that  made  me 
first  love  God  ;  but  darling,  I  never  realized  how 
God  loved  me. 

"At  first  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  all  hope  had 
faded  out  of  life.  I  thought  the  stars  would  never 
shine  again,  and  how  I  longed  to  die.  But  my 
poor  old  mother  was  taken  very  sick  under  the 
shock,  and  after  the  funeral  my  time  was  too  fully 


YENSIE   WALTON.  251 

occupied  between  her  sick-bed  and  the  babe  to 
think  much,  and  indeed  I  could  not  think,  I  was 
stunned,  numbed. 

"  Once  only  after  did  I  see  Walter.  My  mother 
had  fully  recovered  then.  I  saw  him  first  as  he 
approached  the  house.  My  mother  ordered  me 
sternly  from  the  room  and  turned  to  meet  him.  I 
have  felt  sorry  sometimes  since  I  did  not  stay. 
What  passed  between  them  I  never  knew,  all  she 
told  me  was  that  he  said,  he  should  have  been 
there  earlier  but  was  away  from  the  city,  and  that 
he  offered  to  take  or  support  his  boy,  bpth  of 
which  offers  my  mother  met  with  indignant 
refusals. 

"The  rest  is  soon  told.  In  getting  ready  to 
return  to  our  old  cottage  home  I  had  reason  to 
look  over  Lois'  little  treasures,  and  in  a  box  I 
found,  with  a  gold  ring,  a  slip  of  folded  paper 
which  proved  to  be  a  marriage  certificate ;  Lois 
was  the  wife  of  Walter  Wilde.  When  my  mother 
saw  it  she  said ;  '  he  told  me  this  but  I  thought  he 
lied.' 

"  O  little  girl,  I  cannot  tell  you  all  I  thought 
then.  He  loved  my  sister  doubtless,  loved  her  ; 
and  had  it  not  been  for  me  they  would  have  been 
happy  together  and  my  mother's  darling  still  alive. 
How  gladly  then  I  would  have  exchanged  places 
with  the  dead  to  restore  her  to  his  arms.  Oh, 
mine  was  true  love,  and  true  love  can  sacrifice 
itself,  and  had  he  asked  me  for  his  freedom,  I 


252  YENSIE   WALTON. 

could  and  would  have  given  it  to  him.  But  now 
my  mother  was  broken-hearted,  my  sister  dead, 
he,  who  was  to  me  more  than  life,  a  wanderer,  and 
I  —  I  —  the  innocent  cause  of  all. 

"  But  the  dear  Lord  knew  what  I  best  needed  ; 
and  he  drew  me  so  closely  to  him  in  those  months 
of  pain,  that  I  never  dare  regret  them.  In  our 
humble  cottage  home  I  reared  my  sister's  boy  and 
in  his  love  my  heart  renewed  itself.  What  a  little 
comforter  he  was !  and  yet  sometimes  my  heart 
trembled  while  I  gazed  on  him,  for  with  his 
mother's  grace,  he  inherited  his  father's  eyes  and 
winning  voice,  and  I  could  better  see  him  die  than 
live  and  sin. 

"  Teaching  a  few  scholars,  sewing,  writing,  I 
earned  enough  to  keep  us  through  three  years  and 
then  our  little  babe  folded  his  hands  and  slept,  and 
we  laid  him  in  the  Village  church-yard.  My 
health,  which  had  been  failing,  demanded  an 
inland  air,  and  mother  wrote  to  Judge  Grey,  a 
distant  relative  of  father's  and  he  obtained  for  me 
this  school.  You  know  much  of  my  life  since. 
Now  I  am  going  back  to  mother  and  she  will  be 
glad  to  welcome  me  I  trust.  You,  dear  child, 
have  been  a  constant  joy  to  me,  God  grant  you  all 
the  blessedness  compatible  with  your  highest  good, 
and  spare  you  your  teacher's  pain." 

Yensie  had  not  moved  once  since  Alice  began 
her  story,  but  with  her  head  in  Miss  Grey's  lap, 
her  eyes  riveted  on  the  pale,  resigned  face,  dis- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  253 

tinctly  visible  in  the  moonlight,  she  listened 
breathlessly  ;  a  great,  dull,  heavy  pain  taking  pos 
session  of  her  heart  as  the  story  continued.  Now 
as  Miss  Grey  lay  her  hand  gently  on  the  upturned 
face,  she  caught  it  convulsively  and  pressing  kiss 
after  kiss  upon  it  cried  out  passionately  : 

"  How  could  he  love  anyone  else  better  ?  How 
dare  he  treat  you.  so  ?  O  Alice,  you  don't  think, 
you  cannot  surely,  that  I  would  act  as  Lois  did  ?  " 

"  No,  my  darling,  I  have  no  fear  of  that ;  but 
rather  that  when  you  love  it  will  be  so  wholly,  so 
desperately,  that  to  lose  your  love  or  find  him  un 
worthy,  will  wreck  you  utterly.  Remember  love, 
these  words  of  one  : 

'  O,  slow  of  heart,  and  faithless  they 
Who  garner  all  their  little  world  of  wealth 
In  one  frail,  mortal  bark! '  " 

"  God  is  not  good  Alice,  not  kind  to  make  you 
suffer  so." 

"  Hush,  hush,  my  darling,  this  is  sin,  and  there 
fore  worse  than  suffering,"  said  Alice,  gently. 

"  O  Alice  how  could  you  bear  it,  how  could  you  ?" 
said  the  girl,  "  I  should  have  died." 

"  We  cannot  die  just  when  we  will,  my  darling. 
Gladly  in  those  days  I  would  have  shut  my  eyes 
and  slept,  but  this  was  not  to  be.  He  who  knows 
best  designed  it  otherwise,  and  ofttimes  since  I 
have  met  you,  I  have  thanked  my  God  for  not 
heeding  my  prayers." 


254  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  And  yet,"  persisted  the  girl,  "  I  cannot  under 
stand  how  you  could  bear  it." 

"  The  furnace  heat  was  very  great  at  first,"  said 
Miss  Grey,  "  but  '  the  form  of  the  fourth '  was  there, 
and  after  awhile  I  forgot  the  pain  in  studying  His 
glorious  presence." 

"  O  darling  Alice,"  said  Yensie,  tearfully,  "  who 
ever  was  like  you  ?  who  ever  can  be  again  ?  to  bear 
so  much  so  patiently." 

"  But,  my  child,  I  was  not  always  patient,"  was 
the  reply.  "I  learned  obedience  by  the  things 
which  I  suffered,  and  many  have  borne  as  bitter, 
yes  more  rueful  trials." 

"  Impossible  !  "  said  the  girl,  emphatically. 

"  No  darling,  not  impossible.  Had  I  married 
Walter  and  then  discovered  his  weakness,  how 
much  more  terrible.  Better  far  to  have  lost  an  idol 
than  having  throned  it  to  find  it  clay.  I  had  built 
too  high,  my  child,  for  all  my  building  was  to  self ; 
my  fortune  as  his  wife,  our  joy  together ;  all  selfish, 
all  selfish!  Thank  God  the  top  stone  was  not  set 
and  so  it  was  easier  to  undo  the  work.  To-day  I 
thank  him,  thank  him  !  Not  that  Walter  Wilde 
was  faithless,  but  that  he  was  unmasked  to  me  be 
fore  it  was  too  late.  Out  of  that  bitter  experience 
lias  been  learned  one  lesson  worth  it  all,  I  never 
count  self  '  now.'  " 

There  was  a  long,  unbroken  silence,  then  Miss 
Grey  rose  and  drawing  the  curtain  proceeded  to 
light  the  lamp. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  255 

"  Alice,  why  not  go  to  bed  without  a  light  to 
night,"  suggested  Yensie. 

"  I  have  something  to  sho\v  you,  dear,  and  it  may 
be  easier  to-night  when  this  is  all  fresh,  then  we 
will  bury  it  again,  darling." 

A  little  after,  going  to  a  box,  she  unlocked  it  and 
drew  hence  a  tiny  case.  Touching  a  spring  it 
opened  and  laying  it  in  Yensie's  hands  the  lady 
said,  simply,  "  This  is  Walter  as  I  first  knew  him." 

It  was  indeed  a  fascinating  face  that  smiled  up 
into  Yensie's.  Not  regularly  handsome  but  so 
bright,  so  eager,  so  winning.  Yensie  did  not  won 
der  at  her  friend's  choice,  for  though  there  was 
weakness  written  about  the  mouth  there  was  proud 
ambition  as  well,  and  the  dark  eyes  had  wondrous 
depths  of  beauty. 

Long  and  earnestly  the  maiden  regarded  that 
pictured  face,  then  she  looked  up  to  the  marble  one 
above.  "  It  is  hard  to  believe  that  this  man  sinned 
thus,  Alice,"  she  whispered. 

"  This  man  did  not  sin,"  said  her  friend,  gravely. 
"  This  is  his  best  self,  the  Walter  I  loved  and  still 
love  ;  the  other,  the  sinful  Walter,  died  out  of  my 
heart  years  ago."  And  with  one  earnest  glance  at 
the  mirrored  face,  Alice  Grey  shut  up  the  case  and 
locked  it  out  of  sight ;  and  drawing  a  chair  to  the 
table  read  from  her  Bible  the  ninety-first  psalm. 

Its  words  of  soothing  fell  like  oil  upon  the  troub 
led  heart  of  the  maiden  and  when  a  little  after, 
they  knelt,  and  Miss  Grey  lifted  up  her  voice  in 


256 


YENSIE   WALTON. 


prayer  a  restfulness  came  over  the  spirit  of  the 
young  girl,  a  trustfulness  she  had  not  felt  before. 
Surely  He  who  had  led  her  teacher  thus  through 
swelling  waters  forever  nearer  to  himself  could  and 
would  guide  her  feet  also.  She  fell  into  peaceful 
slumber  that  night  on  Alice  Grey's  bosom,  but  the 
morning's  dawn  found  the  gentle  woman  still  wake 
ful  ;  the  throbbing  heart  again  so  fully  roused  would 
not  be  stilled  to  rest. 


CHAPTER     XX. 


"  A  glance,  a  srnile  —  I  see  it  yet  !  — 
A  moment  ere  the  train  was  starting." 

— J.  G.  SAXE. 


LICE  Grey  had  always  been  dear  to  Yensie 
Walton,  but  from  that  hour  of  revelation 
the  tie  that  bound  them  was  strengthened 
a  thousand  fold.  By  every  sweet  device  the  maiden 
strove  to  woo  her  friend  to  forgetfulness,  chid 
ing  herself  that  she  had  asked  the  recital  of  such 
agony. 

Realizing  more  fully  than  ever  the  frailty  of  her 
teacher,  she  sought  to  make  every  circumstance  of 
life  bend  to  her  desire  to  be  with  her  when  she 
might,  and  she  was  not  unsuccessful.  But  early  in 
April  she  bade  her  loved  friend  a  tearful  good-by, 
though  not  before  she  had  promised  to  write  to  her 
257 


258  YENSIE  WALTON. 

often,  and  to  spend  a  portion  of  her  vacations  at 
the  sea-side  cottage. 

At  the  farm-house  the  stir  of  spring  was  increased 
by  the  preparations  going  on  for  Yensie's  de 
parture  to  school,  for  Mr.  Walton  had  settled  all 
the  preliminaries,  and  declaring  she  must  compare 
favorably  with  her  school-mates,  had  spent  a  whole 
day  in  the  city  shopping,  and  brought  home  with 
him  the  village  dress-maker. 

Fred's  lamentations  were  loud  and  long,  his  pro 
testations  of  undying  affection  characteristic.  The 
morning  of  her  departure  he  presented  her  with  a 
very  suspicious  looking  box  with  sundry  and  oft- 
repeated  directions,  among  which  one  especially  em 
phasized  was,  that  she  should  not  lift  the  cover  un 
til  the  train  had  left  the  depot.  Yensie  was  very 
obedient,  although  a  decided  little  "  tick,  tick,"was 
kept  satisfying  yet  sharpening  her  curiosity. 

Her  uncle  gave  her  a  neat  little  portemonnaie  with 
a  few  bills  in  it,  to  buy  sweet-meats  with,  he  said, 
and  for  the  first  time  since  childhood  Yensie  found 
herself  a  traveller. 

It  was  new  but  delightful  at  first  and  she  busied 
herself  in  studying  the  faces  of  the  passengers,  an 
employment  she  had  always  found  charming.  She 
wondered  now  if  that  pale-faced  thoughtful-eyed 
woman  had  not  some  secret  sorrow  stowed  awa}r  out 
of  sight ;  if  the  buxom  Irish  girl  did  not  feel  quite  as 
smart  as  her  mistress  ;  and  what  could  be  passing 
through  the  mind  of  the  old  gentleman  who  sat 


YENSIE  WALTON.  259 

with  compressed  lips  and  frowning  brows  just  op 
posite  ? 

It  was  a  kindly,  benevolent  face  and  reminded 
her  of  some  other  face,  but  where  she  could  not  re 
call.  She  watched  the  gentleman  narrowly — every 
movement  of  his  thin  hands,  ever}r  change  of  his 
countenance. 

When  he  smiled  at  the  cross  baby  held  by  a  poor, 
tired-looking  woman  and  hunted  his  pocket  to  find 
it  a  rosy-cheeked  apple,  the  sternness  so  vanished 
from  his  face,  it  so  blossomed  into  beauty,  as  to 
bring  before  her  instantly  the  face  of  Herbert  Gar 
denell. 

She  was  not  surprised  therefore  when  a  little 
after,  as  passengers  crowded  in  at  a  station,  and  he 
took  a  seat  behind  her,  to  hear  him  answer  in  reply 
to  some  question  from  the  florid  gentleman  beside 
him : 

"  Gardenell  sir,  Gardenell,  I  stop  at  D ,  where 

I  expect  to  meet  my  son." 

He  was  Herbert's  father,  she  felt  sure,  she  did  not 
wish  to  listen  to  the  conversation  going  on  behind 
her,  but  could  not  help  it  well.  The  next  she 
heard  after  the  shrill  whistle  had  ceased  and  the 
train  started  again,  was  in  the  same  voice,  "  Yes  sir, 
he  is  a  student  at  the  Theological  Seminary,"  and 
after  that  a  stiff  discussion  followed  on  theological 
differences,  to  which  the  girl  found  herself  listening 
eagerly. 

The  old  gentleman  seemed  to  ground  his  opin- 


260  YENSIE  -WALTON. 

ions  so  clearly  on  a  biblical  basis,  and  held  him 
self  so  courteously  yet  so  unswervingly  to  a  tri 
umphant  issue  to  the  mind  of  the  one  listener,  that 
clearly  did  the  decision  rest  with  her  the  portly 
gentleman  must  have  found  himself  defeated. 

Yensie  was  to  change  cars  at  D but  as  the 

train  rumbled  into  the  station  the  noise  of  the 
whistle,  the  shouting  of  the  hackmen,  the  nasal  ac 
cent  of  the  conductor,  all  helped  to  confuse  her 
and  she  felt  quite  uncertain  as  to  the  situation. 

A  few  started  to  their  feet,  our  young-  friend 

among  them.  "  Is  this  D ?  "  she  inquired  of  a 

gentleman  elbowing  along.  He  did  not  answer  her, 
but  Mr.  Gardenell  did. 

"  Yes  dear,  this  is  D ;  do  you  wish  to  stop 

here?" 

"  I  clfenge  cars  here  for  L ,"  she  said,  and  in  a 

few  moments  they  stood  together  on  the  platform. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  how  soon  the  car  starts  for 

L ?  "  she  inquired,  "  and  whether  it  is  from  this 

depot  ?  " 

"I  don't  know.  My  son  will  know,  however. 
He  will  be  here  presently.  Ah,  there  he  is  now," 
and  before  she  could  say  a  word  Herbert  came  for 
ward,  unmistakable  pleasure  as  well  as  surprise  on 
his  face  on  beholding  his  father's  companion. 

The  old  gentleman  started  forward  a  little  to 
greet  him.  "  My  dear  boy,"  he  said,  eagerly,  then, 
as  if  remembering  Yensie,  "  here  is  a  young  lady 
who  wishes  to  know  about  the  train  for  L ." 


YENSIE   WALTON.  261 

"  In  ten  minutes  from  the  other  track.  Yensie,  I 
am  so  glad  to  see  you.  Father,  let  me  introduce 
you  to  a  friend,  Miss  Walton,  whom  I  met  last 
summer  at  Wynn." 

The  stately  old  gentleman  shook  hands  cordially, 
and  Herbert  left  her  with  him  while  he  sought  her 
baggage  and  had  it  re-checked. 

"  You  have  saved  me  much  trouble,  Mr.  Gard- 
enell,"  she  said  blushing,  "and  I  thank  you." 

"  I  am  very  happy  in  having  the  privilege,"  was 
his  reply,  and  strolling  up  and  down,  a  gentleman 
on  either  side  of  her,  the  ten  minutes  passed  very 
quickly  and  pleasantly.  It  seemed  all  too  soon 
that  she  found  herself  waving  her  handkerchief 
from  the  car  window,  while  the  gentlemen  stood 
where  she  had  left  them  until  the  train  was  out  of 
sight. 

"  A  very  pretty  and  pleasant  young  lady,"  said 
the  old  gentleman.  "  What  is  she  to  you,  my 
son?" 

"  Everything,"  was  the  prompt  rejoinder.  The 
young  man  was  conscious  of  the  half-curious,  half- 
troubled  glance  of  his  father. 

"  Herbert,  be  careful  where  you  bestow  your 
affection." 

"  Is  love  ever  careful,  father?  "  questioned  the 
youth.  "  Is  not  this  young  lady  in  every  way  my 
worthy  ?  " 

"  She  is  certainly  very  charming  in  form  and 
feature  my  boy,"  assented  the  elder. 


262  YENSIE   WALTON". 

"  Not  more  so  than  in  mind  and  soul ;  she  is 
rarehr  gifted,"  said  the  young  man,  warmly. 

"  A  gifted  woman  is  apt  to  be  ambitious,"  urged 
the  father. 

Herbert  smiled. 

"  Love  will  uproot,  overtop  ambition,  in  my 
woman's  heart,  father,  and  then  it  will  be  twice 
welcome.  You  forget  what  a  woman  has  written ; 
a  gifted,  ambitious  woman  : 

'  Art  is  much,  but  Love  is  more! 

O  art,  my  art,  thou'rt  much,  but  Love  is  more  1 

Art  symbolizes  heaven,  but  Love  is  God  and  makes  heaven.'" 

The  old  gentleman  smiled  at  his  son's  enthusi 
asm.  "  Are  you  quite  sure,  my  boy,"  he  said, 
"  that  this  you  call  love  is  such  ?  May  it  not  rather 
be  the  effervescence  of  youthful  admiration  ? 

'Love's  true  flower  before  it  springs, 
Deep  in  the  breast  its  fibre  shoots 

And  clasps  the  heart  and  round  it  clings, 
And  fastens  by  a  thousand  roots.' 

"  I  can  quote  poetry  you  see  as  well  as  you.  Did 
you  ever  read  these  lines  of  Moore's  ? 

'  To  sigh,  yet  feel  no  pain, 
To  weep,  yet  scarce  know  why, 
To  sport  an  hour  with  beauty's  chain, 
Then  throw  it  idly  by; 
To  kneel  at  many  a  shrine, 
Yet  lay  the  heart  on  none ; 


YENSEE   WALTON.  263 

To  think  all  other  charms  divine 
But  those  we  just  have  won; 
This  is  love  —  careless  love  — 
Such  as  kiudleth  hearts  that  rove. 

'  To  keep  one  sacred  flame 
Through  life  unchilled,  unmoved, 
To  love  in  wintry  age  the  same 
As  first  in  youth  we  loved  : 
To  feel  that  we  adore 
With  such  refined  excess, 
That  though  the  heart  would  break  with  more, 
We  could  not  live  with  less; 
This  is  love,  faithful  love  — 
Such  as  saints  might  feel  above  I '  " 

"  Father,  you  wrong  Miss  Walton  by  thinking 
any  man  could  offer  her  less  than  the  last  named 
devotion ;  you  wrong  me  to  think  I  could  ever 
offer  less  to  any  woman  whom  I  sought  to  woo." 
said  Herbert,  a  little  hotly. 

"  We  cannot  always  read  ourselves,  Herbert,"  was 
the  reply.  "  I  offered  less  to  a  woman  once,  not 
knowing.  Well  for  me,  she  saved  me  the  possible 
consequences." 

"  Be  sure  your  son  will  not  repeat  your  mistake 
sir,"  was  the  grave  reply,  and  the  old  gentleman 
said  no  more.  He  had  hoped  his  boy  would  fix 
his  affections  on  the  little  pla}rmate  of  his  child 
hood  and  was  still  inclined  to  think  this  a  passing 
fancy. 

He  did  not  know  his  son.  His  mother  had  read 
him  better.  Resembling  his  father  much  in  form 


264  YENSIE   WALTON. 

and  feature,  possessing  all  his  strong  mental  traits, 
his  heart  was  warm  and  tender,  and  his  social 
nature  but  the  intensified  counterpart  of  his  moth 
er's.  His  little  mother,  whose  voice  was  soft,  and 
low,  and  breezy,  whose  step  fell  light  as  down  ;  but 
whose  heart  clung  tenaciously  to  its  beloved  with 
an  undying  affection  which  could  sacrifice  itself 
unhesitatingly  for  its  object  but  could  never  cease 
to  exist. 

Meanwhile,  Yensie  had  new  faces  to  study, 
new  scenery  to  scan,  and  wonderful  thoughts  to 
think  suggested  by  the  telegraph  wires  stretching 
all  along  the  road,  and  by  the  swiftness  with  which 
she  traveled.  Thoughts  of  man's  great  powers, 
God-given,  which  thus  grasp  and  control  the  very 
elements ;  and  from  this,  back  to  the  father  she 
had  just  left,  apparently  so  worthy  of  his  son,  this 
son  who  would  do  honor  to  a  throne. 

She  felt  her  heart  throb  with  joy  that  she  had 
met  him  thus  for  this  little  minute,  felt  the  clasp 
ing  of  his  hand,  looked  again  into  his  eyes,  spoken 
to  his  father. 

How  much  richer  he  was  than  she  could  ever  be, 
with  such  a  parent  to  guard  and  love  him.  He 
had  a  mother,  too,  and  she  was  motherless ;  an 
orphan,  bound  to  a  strange  school,  to  new  associ 
ates  and  duties ;  and,  sobering  beneath  these 
thoughts,  the  last  hour  of  her  ride  was  one  of  con 
centrated  prayer  for  grace  to  live  religiously, 
worthily,  in  this  new  home. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  265 

Yes,  she  longed  to  be  pure-hearted,  truly  relig 
ions  !  and  somehow,  unconsciously,  tinging  all  her 
r'esires  was  the  thought  of  one,  she  counted  really 
pure,  truly  religious,  whose  life  appeared  to  her 
worthy  in  its  every  spring  and  enterprise.  And 
aspiring  to  God  she  somehow  drew  nearer  to  him ; 
with  the  approbation  of  Jehovah  it  was  sweet  to 
know  would  come  his  also. 

Not  that  she  thought  these  things  as  I  have  laid 
them  down  or  was  even  dimly  conscious  of  their 
presence,  but  they  were  there,  for  so  clay  mingles 
with  our  purest  gold  and  mars  our  highest  aspira 
tions. 

Yensie  was  tired  when  she  reached  her  destina 
tion,  and  very  glad  when  through  with  her  first 
interview  with  the  principal  and  introduced  to  her 
new  room-mate. 

It  was  all  very  strange,  but  Ruth  Ingells  was  a 
sweet,  gentle  girl  who  in  every  quiet,  unassuming 
way  tried  to  make  her  room-mate  welcome,  and 
quite  sure  no  conversation  was  expected  of  her 
until  she  felt  disposed  to  it,  she  retired  early  and 
soon  fell  into  a  deep  slumber. 

When  she  awoke  next  morning,  Ruth  had 
already  risen,  and  Yensie's  first  view  of  her  was,  as 
with  Bible  on  her  lap,  she  sat  by  the  window 
studying  its  precepts. 

"  I  have  a  Christian  room-mate  ;  how  thankful  I 
am,"  she  thought,  fearing  to  move  lest  Ruth 
should  be  disturbed.  But  Ruth  soon  discovered 
the  open  eyes. 


266  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  You  will  have  to  dress  quickly,  the  bell  for 
prayers  will  soon  sound.  I  should  have  waked  you 
before  but  I  knew  you  must  be  tired.  I  hope  you 
are  well  rested  this  morning,"  she  said,  sweetly, 
coming  toward  the  bed ;  and  our  impulsive  little 
friend  threw  her  arms  about  her  neck,  kissing  her 
as  she  whispered,  "  God  is  good  to  give  me  a  Bible 
room-mate." 

That  was  the  beginning  of  a  blessed  acquaint 
ance.  There  is  no  need  to  dwell  upon  Yensie's 
school  life,  it  was  not  very  unlike  others.  She  had 
been  well  fitted  and  took  her  place  among  the  best 
scholars  in  her  class,  ranking  high  from  the  first. 

Among  those  earliest  to  welcome  her  were  Kate 
Bradford  and  Jessie  Graf  ton,  both  children  of 
wealthy  parents,  both  bright  and  vivacious,  yet 
very  different. 

Kate  was  a  clear-headed,  out-spoken,  decided 
girl,  and  was  quite  ready  to  pronounce  Yensie 
proud  at  first  because  of  her  little  natural  reserve 
and  that  air  of  superiority  which  was  about  her, — 
not  hauteur  or  stateliness  but  an  inexpressible  some 
thing,  which  is  the  birth-right  of  some,  but  can 
never  be  purchased  by  either  wealth  or  culture. 

But  Jessie  had  been  quick  to  discern  the  real 
spirit  of  the  new-comer,  and  as  quick  in  doing  bat 
tle  with  the  prejudice  fast  taking  hold  of  Kate. 
She  was  a  merry  blonde,  witty  and  saucy,  and  soon 
converted  Miss  Bradford  to  her  views  concerning 
their  class-mate. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  267 

Between  Miss  Crafton  and  Yensie  sprang  up  a 
very  warm  friendship  which  was  destined  to 
strengthen  as  the  years  lapsed. 

A  happy,  light-hearted  child  of  wealth,  Jessie 
saw  no  need  for  great  exertions  and  though  she 
usually  stood  high  in  her  class  she  never  excelled ; 
and  she  looked  upon  Yensie  with  her  clear,  strong, 
well-balanced  mind,  and  powers  of  retention  as 
quite  a  marvel. 

There  was  a  deal  of  hero-worship  in  her  as  well 
as  in  her  more  intellectual  friend  ;  and  this  girl 
who  could  invent  a  story  for  their  hours  of  leisure, 
or  sing  a  song  for  every  passing  mood,  yet  loved 
God  so  devoutly  as  never  to  be  persuaded  to 
neglect  a  duty  or  do  a  wrong,  took  a  high  place  in 
her  regard,  and  was  worshipped  in  a  sort  of  way,  as 
the  embodiment  of  all  the  imagined  virtues  of  her 
heroes  arid  heroines. 

Most  of  the  girls  shared  this  feeling  in  more  or 
less  degree,  and  Yensie  led  them  almost  as  she 
willed ;  all  save  sweet,  gentle,  apparently  timid 
Ruth  Ingells,  she  led  Yensie  rather,  and  exerted  an 
influence  over  her  greater  than  she  ever  imagined. 

Ruth's  life  was  very  pure,  her  religion  a  part  of 
herself — she  lived  it  every  day  —  and  her  quiet  pres 
ence,  her  even  walk  were  a  blessing  to  her  more 
impulsive  room-mate  continually. 

Ruth  was  what  is  termed  an  Advent,  and  they 
soon  found  their  beliefs  differed  in  some  respects 
\v  idely  ;  and  while  Yensie  could  not  yield  an  inch 


268  YENSIE   WALTON. 

in  most  of  these — sure  God's  word  supported  her— 
nevertheless,  Ruth's  sweet  expectancy,  her  conscious 
waiting  for  the  appearing  of  her  Lord,  moved  her 
strangely,  and  troubled  her  not  a  little. 

"  Ruth,  why  are  you  called  an  Advent  more  than 
I?  Do  not  all  Christians  believe  in  the  second 
coming  of  Christ  ?  " 

"  Do  you  ?"  was  the  simple  rejoinder. 

"  Why,  of  course  I  do,"  replied  Yensie,  quickly. 

"  When  ?  "  was  the  next  question. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,  most  any  time,"  was  the  re 
ply.  "  I  suppose  when  God's  time  comes.  I  don't 
know  that  I  expect  him  while  I  live." 

"  And  why  not  ?  Has  God's  word  told  you  it 
would  not  be  in  your  day  ?  " 

"  Why  no.  Neither  has  he  said  it  would,"  was 
the  thoughtful  rejoinder. 

"  No,  but  he  has  said  '  Watch  therefore,  for  ye 
know  neither  the  day  ncr  the  hour.'  Now,  Yensie, 
answer  me  truly  are  you  watching  ?  " 

Yensie  did  not  answer  immediately.  Her  heart 
told  her  she  had  never  watched  as  Ruth  did. 

"  It  is  useless,"  continued  Ruth,  "  to  tell  me  to 
watch  for  that  which  I  am  not  to  expect.  I  must 
believe  it  is  coming,  may  come  soon,  or  I  cannot  ex 
pect  it.  God  does  not  ask  impossibilities,  and 
it  would  be  asking  that,  did  he  require  me  to  watch 
for  one  who  was  not  likely  to  appear.  To  substi 
tute  death,  and  call  that  his  coming,  is  to  call  him  a 
foe,  for  Paul  tells  me  death  is  an  enemy,  the  last  en- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  269 

smy ;  my  Christ  is  a  friend,  always  a  friend,"  and 
Ruth  lifted  a  rainbowed  face  to  the  sky. 

"  Ruth,  I  wish  I  could  be  as  happy  in  the  thought 
as  you  are,"  sighed  Yensie.  "  I  love  Jesus,  I  am 
his  child,  redeemed  ;  I  cannot  doubt  that ;  and  yet 
I  am  tempted  to  sometimes,  when  I  see  you  re 
joicing  in  this  hope.  Ruthie  dear,"  and  Yensie's 
voice  sank  low,  "Ruthie  dear,  I  have  so  many 
things  yet  to  do,  so  much  unfinished  work,  it 
almost  seems,"  and  she  spoke  as  if  ashamed  to  be 
obliged  to  confess  it,  "  as  if  his  coming  just  at  pres 
ent  would  jostle  with  my  plans,  interfere  somewhat 
with  that  which  I  have  laid  out.  You  are  not 
troubled  with  ambitions,  are  you  Ruth  ?  You  have 
no  dear  hopes  ahead  in  this  life  ?  " 

"  Yes  I  have,"  answered  the  girl,  quickly,  while 
a  rich  blush  swept  over  her  face  ;  "  I  have  hopes, 
but  not  plans.  Or  perhaps  you  would  call  them 
plans,  Yensie  ;  but  they  all  admit  this  peradventure, 
they  were  all  made  with  reference  to  the  coming 
of  Christ  and  his  will,  and  will  not  be  disturbed  in 
the  least  only  added  to,  enhanced,  should  he  come." 

"  Then  they  must  all  be  in  respect  to  another 
world,"  said  Yensie,  musingly,  ';  I  suppose  if  I  had 
but  one  wish  and  that  to  glorify  him,  I  should  be 
best  pleased  with  that  he  gives,  for  surely  he 
knows  what  is  best  for  his  glory." 

"  Yes,"  said  Ruth,  "  and,  O  darling  Yensie,  what 
are  any  hopes  we  cherish  in  reference  to  this  sin- 
cursed  world,  that  cannot  better  be  fulfilled  when 


270  YENSIE   WALTON. 

the  earth  is  filled  with  the  glory  of  God  as  the 
waters  cover  the  sea  ?  All  my  hopes  are  in  this 
world,  Yensie,  for  I  am  part  of  the  whole  creation 
which  '  groaneth  and  travaileth  in  pain,"  waiting  for 
the  redemption." 

"  But  the  hopes  I  meant,"  said  Yensie,  "  were  alto 
gether  those  that  concern  this  life.  O  Ruth,  I  feel 
I  have  only  just  begun  to  live,  nay,  never  have 
lived  yet,  my  life  has  been  so  narrow,  so  circum 
scribed.  I  am  so  anxious  to  do  something  great, 
to  serve  my  fellows,  the  world,  the  whole  world  ! 
I  hardly  know  how,  but  oh,  I  pant  for  it.  Surely 
God  is  willing  I  should  realize  a  thing  so  blessed, 
surely  he  will  help  me  do  when  I  want  to  do  for 
him,  for  his  glory." 

"  Yes,  if  it  is  all  for  him,  all  for  his  glory.  But, 
Yensie,  self  is  so  insidious,  it  obtrudes  itself  into  the 
holiest.  We  are  vain  even  of  our  sacrifices  arid  our 
self-abnegations.  We  can  never  be  sure  there  is  no 
self  in  our  wishes  and  therefore  no  danger,  unless 
we  are  sure,  his  will  would  please  us  best." 

"  And  his  will  may  be  to  send  his  Son  quickly," 
said  Yensie,  filling  out  the  thought.  "  O  Ruth,  it 
seems  sometimes  as  if  my  heart  would  break  its 
bonds  to  reach  him,  and  then  again  the  world  and 
ambition,  show  their  heads,  and  I  would  delay  his 
coming  for  my  work.  My  work  ! "  she  continued 
contemptuously,  "  as  if  my  work  could  be  men 
tioned  in  his  presence  !  " 

"'Go  work  in  my  vineyard,'  Jesus  said  that, 


YENSIE  WALTON.  271 

whispered  Ruth,  "  and  over  and  over  \ve  are  told 
in  Revelations,  '  I  know  thy  work,'  and  you  re 
member,  it  is  said  of  the  righteous  dead,  '  their 
works  do  follow  them.'  Don't  despise  your  work 
Yensie,  to-day's  work.  If  it  is  all  God  gives  you. 
opportunity  for,  it  is  all  he  asks  and  the  best  for 
you  to  do  if  he  knows  best,  and  it  wouldn't  do  to 
think  or  say  he  doesn't,  for  that  would  uncrown 
him." 

Yensie  did  not  answer,  but  slowly  began  to  dis 
robe  herself.  It  was  rather  a  sorrowful,  dissatis 
fied  face  that  looked  at  her  out  from  the  mirror. 

Ruth  said  no  more.  She  was  one  of  those  rare 
characters  who  know  when  to  be  still,  and  can  be 
still  when  they  know.  But  even  Yensie's  Bible 
disturbed  her  that  night,  for  she  opened  to  Paul's 
tender  farewell  letter  and  read  :  "  Not  to  me  only, 
but  unto  all  them  also  that  love  his  appearing." 

Was  she  one  who  did  not  love  it  ?  This  was  the 
question  she  lay  awake  long  trying  to  solve.  Alas, 
she  was  trying  to  reconcile  two  unreconcilable 
things  God's  will  and  hers.  One  must  be  given 
up.  Which  ? 

But  as  she  tossed  restlessly,  Ruth,  who  had  not 
slept  yet  either,  said :  "  Yensie,  I  want  to  share  a 
secret  with  you.  I  was  afraid  to  tell  3-011  in  the 
lamp-light,  because  I  am  so  young,  only  a  year 
older  than  you,  but  I  have  known  John  Whedon 
ever  since  we  were  little  children  and  after  he 
graduates  I  have  promised  to  be  his  wife." 


272  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  When  will  he'graduate  ?  "  whispered  Yensie. 

"In  another  year.  So  I  shall  not  be  here  as 
long  as  you.  He  is  to  be  an  Advent  preacher 
Yensie,"  she  added,  doubtfully. 

Yensie  only  gave  her  a  little  squeeze.  "  I  sup 
pose  you  love  him  very  much  ?  "  she  questioned. 

"  Next  to  God,"  was  the  answer. 

What  made  Yensie  think  of  Alice  Grey  and 
what  she  said  of  love  ?  What  made  her  think  of 
Herbert  Gardenell  and  his  intent  to  preach  the 
Gospel  ? 

"  You  are  a  good  girl,  Ruth,"  she  said,  "  and 
have  a  blessed  ambition  in  view,  to  work  with 
Christ's  servant  humbly  till  He  comes,  and  ready 
to  welcome  Him  at  any  hour.  I  wish  my  life  was 
as  sure  of  its  blessed  issues  as  yours.  It  will  be 
sweet  whichever  way  life  goes  with  you  but  my 
life  looks  like  some  great,  restless  sea,  without 
limits,  or  bands,  or  harbors." 

"  Yensie,  darling,  not  without  harbors,"  whis 
pered  her  companion,  softly. 

"  No,  I  was  wrong.  At  length  I  must,  I  must 
find  anchorage  within  the  celestial  city.  Ruth,  I 
have  asked  God  to  hold  me  to  himself  through  any 
discipline ;  but  life  is  not  restful  yet,  not  restful. 
I  wonder  if  I  had  such  an  earthly  love  as  yours. 
Ruth,  if  I  should  be  more  like  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Ruthie,  sweetly.  "  I  am  only  a  lit 
tle  brown  linnet  that  must  needs  nestle  under  some 
wing  to  be  happy.  You  are  an  eagle  made  to  soar 


YENSIE  WALTON.  273 

and  pierce  the  clouds.  But  God  made  and  takes 
care  of  linnet  and  eagle  equally.  I  am  so  glad." 

"You  are  a.  pure  white  dove,  and  will  bring 
nothing  but  blessing  to  any  home,"  said  Yensie  im 
petuously  ;  "  and,  O  Ruthie,  to-night  I  had  rather 
be  a  linnet  with  a  heart  to  love  me,  and  a  nest  to 
shelter,  than  an  eagle  in  his  lonel}7  eyrie,  lofty 
though  it  be." 

Locked  in  each  others  arms  they  fell  asleep  that 
night  both  happier,  and  the  next  day  Yensie  wrote 
to  Alice  Grey  telling  her  all  her  difficulty.  In  the 
letter  occurred  the  following : 

"  Dear  Alice,  I  have  searched  the  Word  and 
must  believe  this  world  our  future  home,  and  I 
believe  too  that  Jesus  may  come  at  any  hour  and 
that  I  am  expected  to  watch  for  his  coming.  But 
my  heart  somehow  resists  —  what  can  I  do  ?  " 

Miss  Grey's  answer  was  fraught  with  blessing. 

"  Dear  Yensie,"  she  wrote,  "  I  am  glad  you  do 
not  accept  all  the  doctrines  of  your  friend.  Some 
are  pernicious  I  fear,  though  she,  herself  must 
be  a  dear,  sweet  child  as  you  describe  her;  and 
leaving  a  large  margin  for  so  impulsive  and  warm 
hearted  an  advocate,  I  must  still  pronounce  her 
uncommon. 

"  About  this  earth  as  our  future  home  I  think  I 
Will  not  quarrel  with  you,  my  Bible  reads  very 
much  that  way.  About  the  dear  Lord's  coming  I 
think  you  are  troubled  unnecessarily  my  darling. 

"Not  that  we  are  not  expected   to  watch;   we 


274  YENSIE   WALTON. 

are.  Not  that  it  may  not  be  possible  he  will  come 
soon,  thank  God  I  deem  it  so ;  but  that  having 
placed  your  soul  in  his  hands  you  must  leave  it 
there  in  all  its  moods  of  belief  or  unbelief,  of 
delight  or  sorrow. 

"  That  your  soul  does  not  always  respond  rejoic 
ingly  to  the  truth  is  cause  for  mourning,  but  still 
greater  cause  for  giving  it  anew  to  God's  keeping. 
We  can  only  believe,  and  believe  gladly,  as  he 
helps  us  to,  as  we  trust  him  supremely. 

"  You  cannot  make  yourself  happy  in  what  is  nat 
urally  repugnant,  but  he  can  ;  and  you  can  ask  him 
to  do  so.  Having  asked  him,  wait ;  not  thrashing 
yourself,  that  he  does  not  hurry ;  his  time  is  the 
best  time,  and  it  is  never  behind  time.  So  before 
he  comes  be  sure  having  asked  him  he  will  make 
you  ready,  so  that  when  he  comes  you  will  love  his 
appearing. 

"Remember  the  apostle's  declaration,  'Ye  have 
need  of  patience  ; '  and  the  dear  Lord's  injunction, 
*  in  your  patience  possess  ye  your  souls.'  Be  patient 
with  yourself.  The  century  oak  is  not  the  growth 
of  a  month  or  year,  neither  is  a  full-grown  Christian 
experience. 

"  The  seedling  oak  is  oak  still  though  so  insignifi 
cant  before  its  elders.  My  darling,  you  are  only  a 
sapling  yet,  but  of  the  best  kind  I  trust.  There 
is  oak  there ;  and  God's  breezes,  rains,  storms, 
snows,  and  sunshine,  will  grow  and  harden  you  un- 


YENSIE  TV  ALTON.  275 

til  amid  the  trees  of  the  forest  I  shall  behold  you 
yet. 

"  I  don't  want  my  little  child  to  worry  about 
anything,  because  worry  never  improves,  while  it 
weakens.  Trust  God,  trust  him  always,  with  and 
in  all  things.  Where  your  soul  was  converted,  it 
must  be  sanctified,  and  we  must  go  for  obedience 
where  we  went  for  forgiveness. 

"  If  you  find  any  lack  anywhere,  go  to  the  store 
house,  you  have  the  keys, '  whatsoever  ye  ask,  if  ye 
shall  ask  anything  in  my  name,'  &c. ;  golden  keys 
to  marvellous  good,  and  to  every  good. 

"  Let  me  now  give  you  two  illuminated  mottoes 
to  carry  through  life  :  '  Tell  Jesus '  and  '  He  knows.' 
They  are  apparent  contradictions  or  inconsistencies. 
'Tis  seeming  folly  to  tell  to  one  who  already  knows ; 
but  you  can  see  that  your  voluntary  confidence 
would  be  worth  all  the  world  to  me,  even  if  I  knew 
all  it  disclosed  before.  But,  O  my  darling,  take 
these  four  words  with  you  through  life,  one  or  the 
other  will  fit  into  every  joy  and  every  sorrow  of 
life. 

"  When  puzzled,  sinful,  sick,  sore,  '  tell  Jesus ; ' 
when  downcast  and  troubled  and  seemingly  beyond 
the  touch  of  any  earthly  friend  with  pain  which 
cannot  be  voiced  or  framed  in  words  to  suit  the  ear 
of  either  finite  or  infinite,  then  bethink  you  he 
knows,  knows  all  the  depths  of  agony,  all  the  '  need 
be  '  behind  it,  all  the  glory  behind  it.  '  He  knows,' 


276  YENSIE  WALTON. 

and  for  Father  to  know  is  to  have  compassion,  to  love, 
to  help,  to  remove  if  posssble,  to  uplift  if  not. 

"  And  now  I  have  written  a  long  letter.  I  miss 
you,  my  darling,  I  long  to  clasp  you  in  my  arms 
once  more ;  every  hour  of  every  day  my  voice 
reaches  the  throne  in  supplications  for  you.  I '  tell 
Jesus '  what  my  heart  craves  for  you,  and  '  he 
knows  '  how  to  bring  it  to  you.  I  dare  not  mark 
out  the  path  for  you  to  tread.  I  tell  Jesus  where  I 
long  to  have  it  end  and  '  he  knows '  all  the  way  to 
lead  you.  And  so  I  find,  and  you  Avill  find,  that 
all  through  life  you  need  to  '  tell  Jesus  '  and  to  re 
member  that  '  he  knows,'  not  only  how  to  listen  to 
the  petition  but  how  to  answer  it  best. 

"Good-bye,  my  darling,  for  awhile.  I  must 
close  if  this  is  to  catch  this  mail,  and  it  must  to  give 
you  early  cheer.  God  bless  you  abundantly. 

"  SISTER  ALICE." 

Yensie  read  her  letter  to  Ruth  and  the  dear  girl 
wept  as  she  listened. 

"  How  good  she  must  be,"  she  cried.  "  Tell  her 
I  will  carry  her  illuminated  mottoes  through  life 
and  thank  God  for  sending  them  to  me  through 
you." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 


"  Let  us  be  patient.     These  severe  afflictions 
Not  from  the  ground  arise, 
But  oftentimes  celestial  benedictions 
Assume  this  dark  disguise." 

—  LONGFELLOW. 


>AVE  you  a  sister,  Whedon?"  asked  Her 
bert  Gardenell  of  a  fellow-student  one 
day,  as  for  the  third  or  fourth  time  dur- 
ring  the  term  he  saw  him  receive  a  letter  directed 
in  a  delicate,  feminine  hand.  He  and  Whedon 
were  excellent  friends  and  he  knew  his  mate  had 
no  mother  ;  therefore  the  question. 

They  were  part  of  a  group  of  students  assem 
bled  in  the  village  post-office,  and  Gardenell's 
question  was  greeted  with  a  perfect  storm  of  ap 
plause.  Whedon  colored  slightly,  but  answered 
by  a  simple  negative. 

Shortly  after,  having  an  opportunity  Gardenel] 
excused  himself. 

277 


278  YENSIE   WALTON. 

"  I  didn't  mean  a  thing  by  my  question  Jack," 
he  said,  "  but  the  fellows  took  it  up  so  I  feared 
you'd  think  I  did." 

Whedon  laughed.  "It's  nothing  I'm  ashamed 
of  Gard.  My  letters  come  from  a  little  girl  to 
whom  I'm  engaged.  We  are  to  marry  when  I 
graduate." 

"  You're  a  lucky  fellow,"  said  Herbert,  grasping 
his  hand  heartily.  "She's  a  jewel  I  know  from 
the  looks  of  her  hand-writing.  Don't  laugh  now, 
I'll  describe  her  and  prove  my  ability  to  tell." 

"  Go  ahead,"  said  Jack. 

"  She  is  tender,  shrinking,  bashful,"  began  Her 
bert,  "but  brave  as  a  lion  in  an  hour  of  real 
demand;  such  girls  always  are.  A  truthful,  de 
pendent  girl,  who  loves  to  look  up  to  and  lean  on 
some  other,  yet  would  not  fear  to  die  for  truth  or 
for  one  she  loves." 

"  Gardenell,  do  you  know  Ruth  ?  ''  interrupted 
Whedon.  "  Where  did  you  ever  see  her  ?  " 

"  Haven't    seen    her     yet,"    laughed    Herbert. 

"  Mark,  I  did  not  tell  you  her  complexion,  the 
color  of  her  eyes,  or  height.  All  I  know  I  have 
read  on  the  backs  of  the  envelopes  exposed  to 
view  in  the  window  of  our  large  post-office." 

"  You're  a  wizard,"  said  Whedon.  "  Couldn't 
have  described  her  better.  I  tell  you  she  helps  me 
to  be  a  better  man.  She  helps  everybody,  though 
she  doesn't  know  it  and  imagines  all  the  good  in 
her  due  to  some  other  body's  help.  She  has  a 


YENSIE  WALTON.  279 

room-mate  now  at  L that  she  thinks  the  world 

of  —  writes  me  how  her  Christian  life  is  strength 
ened  by  contact  with  her.  I  know  all  about  that, 
she  receives  good  from  everything,  can't  help  it, 
that's  her  nature.  They  have  some  queer  old  the 
ological  discussions,  I  take  it  if  they  are  not 
learned  doctors.  The  girl  must  be  cute  judging 
from  some  of  the  questions  she  puts  to  Ruth. 
Come,  Gardenell,  seeing  you  have  a  discerning 
spirit,  perhaps  you  can  describe  this  room-mate  of 
Ruth's  and  tell  me  her  name.  I'm  blest  if  I  can 
make  it  out." 

Herbert  smiled.  "  Room-mate  at  L ,"  meant 

much  to  him.  Yeusie  had  gone  there  to  school. 
Who  so  likely  to  be  the  smart,  lovable  girl  with  a 
peculiar  name  ?  So  he  answered  his  friend  readily. 

"  A  slender,  beautifully  formed  girl,  neither 
short  nor  tall,  but  very  queenly ;  with  the  most 
delicious  complexion  imaginable,  and  bewildering 
eyes ;  a  mouth  whose  music  wafts  your  soul  to 
heaven,  and  a  wealth  of  chestnut  hair  carried  as 
regally  as  if  it  were  a  diadem.  She  is  about  six 
teen,  I  judge,  very  talented,  very  good,  and  named 
Yensie  Walton.  An  odd  name  I  admit,  no  one 
else  ever  owned  it  I  suppose,  but  then  nobody  else 
was  ever  just  like  her.  She  is  truly  a  very  delight 
ful  girl." 

Whedon  whistled.  He  was  evidently  more  than 
surprised  and  needed  to  let  off  steam. 

"  Gardenell,  you  beat  all  the   men  that  ever 


280  YENSIE   WALTON. 

brought  white  mice  out  of  old  gentlemen's  tall 
hats.  I  believe  you've  hit  Ruthie's  room-mate  ex 
actly.  Used  some  of  the  very  expressions  in  a  let 
ter  in.  my  pocket,  and  — "  studying  an  epistle 
pulled  out  hastily  —  "•  yes,  that's  the  name  that  has 
puzzled  me  so  much,  Y-e-n-s-i-e.  Come,  own  up 
where  you  met  this  one,  seeing  you  had  no  en 
velope  to  study  ?  " 

"  Oh,  once  upon  a  time  in  a  country  town  I  met 
such  a  maiden,"  replied  Herbert. 

"  Wonderful !  "  said  Jack,  "  to  think  my  Ruth 
should  have  struck  your  affinity." 

But  Gardenell  said  never  a  word.  The  first 
ear  that  should  hear  the  confession  of  his  love 
should  be  the  ear  of  his  beloved  and  this  when  — 
well,  she  was  only  a  little  school-girl  now,  a  little 
girl  he  told  him  self  so  often.  When  he  and  she 
were  done  with  school  then — he  only  smiled  and 
built  castles  after  that  then. 

He  inquired  of  Whedon,  however,  if  the  young 
ladies  were  allowed  to  correspond  with  whom  they 
pleased. 

"  No,"  was  the  reply.  "  They  are  not  usually 
allowed  any  correspondence  with  young  men. 

Madame  W is  very  strict.  But  Ruth  went  there 

only  on  condition  that  she  have  the  privilege  of 
writing  to  me  occasionally." 

One,  two,  passed  the  terms.  Yensie  wrote 
home  for  permission  to  spend  her  first  vacation  at 


YENSIE  WALTON.  281 

the  beach  with  Madame  and  a  few  of  the  young 
ladies. 

Fred  replied.  "  Father  says  you  may  go  to  the 
beach.  Mother  is  not  over  pleased.  I'm  just  mad. 
Not  because  you're  going  to  have  a  nice  time,  but 
because  I'm  selfish.  I  hope  you'll  have  a  stunning 
time.  Is  that  too  big  a  word  ?  You'll  be  aston 
ished  when  you  see  me.  I  grow  some,  mother 
says  I'm  taller  than  I  was  even  a  month  ago,  and 
getting  too  far  through  my  pants.  She  says  I 
grow  so  fast  because  I'm  '  sassy.'  The  spelling  is 
mother's ;  I  know  better." 

This  letter  contained  beside  a  whole  string  of 
endearments,  and  sundry  hints  of  a  young  man 
"  made  up  of  '  yaller  curls  and  musk '  (mother's 
spelling  again)  who  is  sweet  on  Mill."  Then  there 
was  a  twenty  dollar  bill,  "  a  black  and  white  secret 
between  you  and  father  and  me,  for  mother'd 
think  she  was  robbed  if  she  knew,  and  Mill  would 
make  a  row  for  another.  But  you're  to  do  as  the 
other  girls  do  and  father'll  foot  the  bills  ;  he  says 
so." 

The  Christmas  holidays  Yensie  spent  with 
Jessie  Crafton  in  her  elegant  home.  There  she 
soon  became  a  favorite  not  only  with  Mrs.  Crafton 
but  with  Mrs.  Germaine,  Jessie's  Aunt  Julia,  wLo 
was  visiting  her  sister. 

Returning  to  school  Yensie  found  a  letter  await 
ing  her  containing  sad  intelligence,  though  then 
she  did  not  realize  how  serious.  Fred  had  met 


282  YENSIE   WALTON. 

with  an  accident.  He  had  been  run  into  by  a  sled 
and  his  hip  severely  injured.  Yensie  wrote  him 
a  long,  tender  letter  and  received  in  answer  a  few 
tear-blurred  lines  assuring  her  he  should  get  well 
speedily  if  she  were  at  home. 

Letters  after  this  were  not  so  plenty  from  Wynn 
for  Fred  had  been  Yensie's  chief  correspondent. 
But  just  as  our  friend  had  decided  to  answer  Miss 
Grey's  urgent  letter  of  invitation  to  spend  the 
interim  between  the  school  years  with  her,  a  letter 
from  Mildred  revoked  that  decision. 

Fred  would  never  walk  again,  she  wrote,  and  was 
very  anxious  to  see  Yensie.  He  was  altogether 
unbearable  anyway  and  his  father  made  a  fool  of 
him  as  if,  because  he  was  lame,  he  should  make 
everybody  else  miserable. 

Ruth  was  going  home  to  be  married,  and  tearful 
was  her  parting  with  her  room-mate.  The  day- 
after  her  departure,  Yensie  left  for  Wynn. 

At  D she  looked  eagerly  for  a  glimpse  of 

Herbert  Gardenell,  but  in  vain,  and  after  a  long, 
tiresome  ride  found  herself  in  the  early  afternoon 
nearing  Wynn. 

Old  remembrances  began  to  clamor  at  her  heart 
as  she  drew  nearer  to  Valley  Farm,  and  it  was  with 
intense  eagerness  at  length  she  alighted  from  the 
coach  which  brought  her  from  the  depot,  and  stood 
at  the  old  gate. 

As  the  kitchen  door  swung  open,  Aunt  Sarah 
and  Milly  both  looked  up.  They  had  not  expected 


YENSIE   WALTON.  283 

her  evidently  that  day  from  the  surprise  written  on 
their  countenances. 

A  warm,  loving  kiss  she  gave  each,  and  then 
asked,  "  Where's  my  boy  ?  "  Mildred  pointed  to 
the  door,  and  bounding  into  the  dining-room  the 
young  girl  caught  sight  of  a  poor,  thin,  white  face 
looking  at  her  out  of  eager  eyes — eyes  belonging 
to  a  slight  little  figure  stowed  away  on  one  corner 
of  the  lounge,  a  crutch  at  hand  leaning  against  the 
wall. 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  dear  old  girl  !  "  cried  the  boyish 
voice,  as  stooping  over  him  she  allowed  herself  to 
be  almost  suffocated  with  hugs  and  kisses.  "  You 
precious,  precious  old  thing,  I  made  almost  sure  you 
would  come,  though  that  horrid  Milly  said  you 
wouldn't.  I  began  to  fear  she  might  be  right  when 
you  didn't  come  in  3resterday's  train  (you  see  I 
kept  the  time)  and  I  nearly  cried  my  eyes  out  last 
night  after  I  was  in  bed  where  she  couldn't  see  me ; 
for  she  said  you  had  forgotten  all  about  me  and  I 
wouldn't  allow  her  to  believe  I  thought  so  for  a 
moment.  And  I  didn't,  did  I  now  ?  for  there 
would  live  a  little  bit  of  hope  way  down  in  a  cor 
ner  of  my  heart,  that  made  me  watch  for  you  all 
the  morning ;  and  when  I  heard  your  voice  there 
was  such  a  thrill  went  all  through  me,  that  I  forgot 
I  couldn't  walk  and  went  springing  up  to  meet  you 
until  the  pain  made  me  remember.  But  you  are 
here,  and  you  love  me  just  the  same  I  know,  and  I 
may  hug  you  all  I  like  even  if  it  does  rumple  your 


284  YENSIE   WALTON. 

curls  and  collars.  Ain't  I  glad  Miss  Hateful  was 
mistaken  for  once  in  her  life.  You  didn't  forget 
me  if  you  were  at  boarding-school  with  grand 
friends  who  invited  you  home  to  spend  your  vaca 
tions  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  forget  my  Fred,  if  I  had  made  ever 
so  many  wonderful  acquaintances,  which  I  haven't. 
But  I  am  afraid  I  shall  have  to  set  him  a  little  lower 
in  my  estimation  than  I  wish  to,  if  he  speaks  so 
disrespectfully  of  his  sister,"  said  Yensie,  placing  her 
hand  caressingly  on  the  red  hair. 

"  But  she  is  so  cross  and  hateful,  you  can't  begin 
to  guess,"  said  Fred  in  extenuation. 

"  And  you  are  so  good  and  patient,  is  that  what 
I  am  to  understand  ? "  questioned  Yensie,  a  half 
smile  on  her  lips. 

"  No,  I  have  been  just  as  cross  as  Mill  herself,"  he 
answered,  slowly ;  "  but  then,  as  father  says,  I  am 
only  a  poor  little  lame  boy." 

"And  so  must  add  sin  to  misfortune,"  kissing  his 
now  burning  cheek,  "  is  that  it  little  brother  ?  " 

He  flung  his  arms  about  her  neck  and  whispered 
in  answer, "  I  shall  be  all  right  now,  you  have  come, 
and  so  good  if  you'll  only  stay.  O  Ennie  darling," 
with  a  little  sob,  "  you  don't  begin  to  know  how 
hard  it  is.  Sit  down  right  here  and  let  me  put 
my  head  in  your  lap  while  I  tell  you."  Then  no 
ticing  the  tears  of  sympathy  in  her  eyes,  he  added 
quickly,  "  how  selfish  I  am,  you  are  tired  and  need 
rest." 


YENSIE  WALTON.  285 

"  No,  you  are  not  selfish,  and  I  am  not  tired,"  she 
answered,  smiling  into  his  face.  "  But  if  you  will 
let  me  change  my  dress  and  wash  my  face,  I  shall 
feel  better  and  be  very  much  sweeter.  Cars  do  not 
add  to  cleanliness." 

"  Well,  go,"  he  said  reluctantly ;  and  as  she  closed 
the  door  she  saw  his  eyes  followed  her,  and  coming 
back,  some  minutes  later,  found  them  still  fixed 
upon  the  spot  where  she  had  disappeared,  waiting 
her  return. 

She  looked  so  fresh  and  sweet,  and  beautiful  in 
the  clean,  light  calico,  she  had  donned,  that  he  cried 
out  rapturously,  "  Oh,  how  handsome  you  are,  Yen- 
sic  ;  you  are  prettier  than  everr  isn't  she,  Mill  ? " 
appealing  to  his  sister,  who  was  passing  through 
the  room. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  she  is,"  was  the  answer,  and  Fred 
went  on  as  the  maiden  seated  herself  beside  him. 

"  I  wish  I  was  a  man,  a  great,  handsome,  rich 
man,  then  I  would  marry  you  Ennie,  and  give  you 
everything  you  wanted  before  you  could  ask  for  it, 
and  make  you  so  happy." 

Yensie  smiled  down  into  the  little  eager  face. 
"  You  are  laughing  at  me,  Yensie  ;  don't  you  think 
I  would?" 

"  I  think  you  might  change  your  mind,"  she  said  ; 
"  but  little  man,  I  was  thinking  that  without  wait 
ing  to  grow  big  and  rich,  you  were  making  me  very 
happy  indeed.  I  think  I  love  you  better  just  aa 


286  YENSIE   WALTON. 

you  are  than  I  could  possibly  were  you  one  bit  dif« 
ferent." 

"  What,  Ennie !  crutch  and  all  ?  Ah,  you  liave  not 
seen  this."  he  went  on  sadly,  taking  the  crutch  in 
his  white  hands,  those  long,  thin  hands,  whose  ex 
treme  delicacy  Yensie  had  noted  in  the  first  moment 
of  her  arrival.  "  You  did  not  see  this.  O  Yensie, 
how  I  hate  it,  how  I  hate  it,"  he  went  on  bitterly, 
unconsicously  assuming  an  older  tone  and  manner. 
'"  It  tells  me  all  I  have  lost,  of  all  I  cannot  be. 
Sometimes  it  seems  to  me  it  would  have  been  so 
much  better,  so  much  easier  to  die,"  and  one  thin 
hand  dashed  the  tears  from  his  eyes,  as  with  the 
other  he  still  held  the  despised  symbol  of  his  weak 
ness. 

Yensie's  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  but  she  bowed 
her  head  until  her  lips  touched  the  hated  crutch. 
"  Poor  little  crutch  !  "  she  said,  "  it  may  be,  doubt 
less  is,  God's  messenger.  See,  I  salute  it,  Fred  ! 
this  is  the  way  to  greet  what  Father  sends." 

"  Even  when  it  is  a  crutch.  O  Yensie,  you  do 
not  know  what  I  have  lost  in  gaining  this." 

"  He  knows,"  she  whispered,  softly. 

"  Yes,  He  knows,"  he  said,  hotly.  "  But  does  he 
care.  O  Yensie,  God  has  changed  lately  or  I  have. 
You  used  to  say  he  loved  me  ;  how  could  he  love 
ine  and  send  me  this  ?  " 

"He  knows,"  she  whispered  still. 

"  Knows  what  ?  "  he  asked  so  fiercely  that  Yen 
sie  started  in  surprise. 


YENSIE   W  ALTON".  287 

"  Knows  what?  how  to  torture  his  children,  how 
to  defeat  them  ?  You  are  surprised  and  shocked  at 
me,  but  if  it  was  to  you  he  sent  this  gift,  could  you 
kiss  the  hand  that  offered  it  and  love  him  just  the 
same  ?  " 

Yensie  took  both  thin  hands  in  her  own  and  looked 
with  dewy  eyes  into  his  face  as  she  answered: 

"  My  darling  boy,  He  knows  whether  I  would  or 
not  receive  such  a  gift  submissively.  To-day  I 
feel  if  he  had  sent  me  such  I  would  ask  his  grace 
to  say,  '  Thy  will  be  done,'  and  try  to  serve  him  in 
the  midst  of  pain,  and  through  his  abounding  favor 
out  of  defeat  wring  victory." 

"  You  don't  know  any  thing  about  it,"  he  wailed  ; 
pressing  his  face  into  her  bosom,  while  he  fought 
the  hot  tears  back.  "  How  can  you  know,  without 
standing  just  where  I  do  now.  O,  I  did  so  want 
to  be  a  man,  a  true,  brave  man  of  whom  you  would 
be  proud  !  You  know  you  told  me  I  grew  so 
fast,  I  would  make  a  tall  man,  and  I  was  so  glad,  I 
thought  when  I  got  through  school  I  would  be  big 
enough  to  go  with  you  everywhere  ;  and  O,  I  did 
intend  to  be  so  good,  and  study  hard  and  make  you 
proud  of  me  ;  and  now  it  is  of  no  use,  just  no  use 
at  all,  I  may  as  well  give  up.  You  love  me  Yensie, 
and  I  know  you  would  not  make  me  lame  or  make 
me  suffer  ;  how  can  He  if  He  loves  me  as  you 
say?"  . 

Yensie  pressed  him  a  little  closer  to  herself. 
"  Dear  boy,  dear  boy,"  she  said,  "  we  cannot  meas- 


288  YENSIE  WALTON. 

ure  God-love  by  our  human  standards.  I  am  so 
weak,  so  human,  I  should  spare  you  pain  perhaps, 
even  knowing  that  in  the  end  'twould  rob  you  of 
greater,  richer  gain.  Then,  too  my  knowledge  ife 
limited.  I  cannot  know  the  whole  and  seeing  only 
part  of  the  great  map  of  life  would  make  mis 
takes.  He  knows  the  all  of  life  —  life  present  and 
to  come,  one  whole  with  two  compartments.  He 
never  —  never  makes  mistakes.  Viewing  this 
earth-life  in  its  relation  to  the  other  greater  life, 
for  which  it  is  the  preparation,  and  knowing  just 
what  is  needed  to  make  more  of  us  there,  he  is 
brave  enough,  true  enough  to  our  highest  interests, 
loves  us  enough  to  see  us  suffer  for  the  little  pres 
ent,  sure  it  will  make  the  eternal  afterwards  so 
much  better. 

"  Have  I  made  myself  understood,  Fred  ?  Do 
you  catch  my  thought  ?  I  know  a  little  man,  do  I 
not,  whose  father  would  not  let  him  go  skating 
with  the  other  boys  one  day  because  he  thought 
the  ice  unsound.  He  was  very  angry,  this  little 
man,  and  thought  he  knew  much  better  than  his 
father  ?  But  when  two  frozen  bodies  were  taken 
up  from  the  pond,  where  they  went  down  that 
very  afternoon,  I  heard  him  say,  '  I  was  wrong 
father.  I  am  glad  you  knew  better  than  I  did  and 
would  not  let  me  go.' 

"  It  is  a  poor  illustration,  for  when  can  human 
love  and  foresight  touch  the  divine  ?  But  if  you 
had  dared  to  run  away  that  day  you  would 


YENSIE  WALTON.  289 

have  gone,  and  repented  it  forever,  or  bee  a  lost. 
And  so  perhaps  to-day  if  God  would  give  you 
choice  to  walk  and  be  what  you  had  wished,  what 
others  are,  you  might  make  choice  of  present  good 
and  mourn  the  loss  to  all  eternity.  My  golden 
words  are  best,  '  He  knows.' ' 

Fred  smiled  in  answer  to  her  smile,  but  yet,  he 
said,  "  almost  anything  else  would  seem  better.  I 
did  so  long  to  be  a  man." 

"  And  why  not  be,  yet  ? "  Yensie  inquired. 
"  What  is  the  man,  this  or  this?"  she  said,  touch 
ing  his  little  shriveled  foot  and  then  his  hand  and 
head,  "  or  is  the  man  within  ?  Do  you  not  know  as 
much,  and  love  as  much,  and  think  as  well  now,  as 
heretofore  ?  Don't  mistake  the  man's  house  for 
the  man ;  the  man's  clothes  for  himself.  This 
body  is  only  the  true  man's,  the  soul's,  investiture, 
his  home  for  a  little  while.  I  had  rather  the  house 
would  be  small,  and  ill-shapen,  and  homely  than 
have  the  man  such,  would  not  you  ?  It  is  not  the 
casket,  but  gem,  we  prize  most.  I  had  rather  have 
a  diamond  in  a  nut-shell,  than  a  glass  bead  in  a 
velvet  case,  and  darling,  your  soul  may  grow,  and 
grow,  and  grow,  until  it  bursts  its  narrow  habili 
ments  and  finds  itself  in  God's  own  freedom. 

"  Be  patient  little  boy ;  even  this  body  you  so 
prize,  the  outward  manhood  you  so  covet  will  yet 
be  yours,  if  true  to  God  and  to  your  own  soul,  for 
in  the  eternal  Somewhere  in  God's  somewhen,  out 
from  the  ashes  of  this  poor  shrunken  house  of 


290  YENSIE   WALTON. 

clay  shall  rise  in  wondrous  glory  a  spiritual  body, 
fit  for  the  robing  of  an  immortal  soul,  and  you 
shall  stand  before  the  eyes  of  Deity  in  perfect 
manhood." 

The  thought  had  grown  upon  her  and  opened 
into  such  wonders  as  she  spoke,  that  all  her  heart 
was  throbbing  with  the  joy  of  such  expectation, 
her  voice  thrilling  with  its  rapture  ;  and  looking 
down  her  eyes  met  an  uplifted,  tearful  face. 

"  O  Yensie,  I  am  so  glad,"  he  gasped. 

"  And  so  am  I,"  she  answered  simply.  "  You 
really  believe  it,  Fred  ?  " 

"  O  yes,"  he  answered,  eagerly,  "  my  heart  tells 
me  it  is  true;  then  you  have  said  so  that  is 
enough." 

"  No,  not  enough,  if  it  ended  with  me,"  she  said. 
"  Only  a  '  thus  saith  the  Lord  '  should  settle  soul- 
questions.  Fred,  He  says  so  and  '  He  knows.' " 

Fred  smiled  into  her  face.  Those  two  words  so 
repugnant  to  him  when  first  she  introduced  them 
were  music  now. 

"  How  nice  it  must  be  to  be  God,"  he  said. 

Yensie  smiled.     "  Why,  Fred  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Because  he  knows  everything,  and  it  must  be 
so  much  easier  to  be  patient  and  wait;"  and  he 
looked  into  her  face  as  if  doubtful  how  she  would 
receive  his  words. 

"  How  much  better,"  she  replied,  and  somehow 
the  wisdom  she  thus  sought  to  impart  to  her  cousin 
fell  back  into  her  own  bosom ;  she,  so  restless  and 


YENSIE   WALTON.  291 

dissatisfied,  so  often  reaching  out  after  the  unat 
tainable  while  slighting  the  good  at  hand  :  "  How 
much  better,  darling,  for  us  to  say,  how  nice  to  be 
'  sons  of  God,'  for  to  such  distinction  he  invites  us, 
and  such  we  may  be  now.  Let  us  be  satisfied  with 
that  He  gives  and  rejoice  that  Father  knows.  For 
since  we  are  not  to  bring  ourselves  home,  nor  mark 
out  our  own  path,  we  need  know  but  little  of  the 
way  ;  one  step  at  a  time.  The  child  never  cares 
whether  the  road  to  the  village  is  known  to  her  or 
not,  when  father  holds  her  hand  ;  so  we  have  only 
to  walk  where  he  bids  and  not  to  determine  where 
it  leads ;  for  the  way  is  his,  the  guide  himself,  and 
however  crooked  the  path  we  cannot  stray  under 
such  guardianship ;  let  us  be  content." 

There  were  no  more  words  spoken  for  many  min 
utes,  then  suddenly  Fred  lifted  his  head  from  her 
lap,  where  she  had  drawn  it,  and  said,  with  peculiar 
emphasis,  pointing  to  the  crutch  :  "  Yensie,  it  don't 
look  half  so  bad.  Why  it  is  almost  beautiful !  See 
how  the  sun  is  shining  on  the  red  leather,  it  looks 
like  a  glory-crutch  now!  How  do  I  know  but 
Jesus  sent  it  to  me  to  help  me  on  my  way  to  the 
New  Jerusalem  ?  I'd  rather  limp  there  than  not 
get  there  at  all,  wouldn't  you  ?  O  Ennie,  I  believe 
I  shall  almost  love  it  after  this,  perhaps  when  I  see 
Him  I  shall  have  reason  to  thank  him  for  this  more 
than  any  other  gift.  Sing  '  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have 
taken,'  for  I  have  taken  it,  Yensie,  and  if  he'll  help 
me,  I'll  carry  it  like  a  man." 


292 


YEKSIE   WALTON. 


Yensie's  eyes  were  full  of  tears,  but  Fred's  were 
full  of  joy  as  she  sang  in  low,  sweet,  tremulous 
tones  that  heart-cry  of  a  stricken  yet  trusting  soul 
which  has  voiced  the  holy  determination  of  many 
a  triumphant  one  who  out  of  defeat  has  wrung  re 
luctant  victory  and  drained  the  bitter  cup  of  sor 
row  having  respect  unto  the  recompense  of  the  re 
ward. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


"  Life  went  a-maying 
With  Nature,  Hope,  and  Poesy, 
When  I  was  young." 

—  COLERIDGE. 


!R.  WALTON'S  delight  at  seeing  his  niece 
was  only  equalled  by  his  pleasure  in  her 
evident  improvement.  Always  possessed 
of  uncommon  grace  there  was  now  an  added 
elegance  of  manner,  an  ease  of  expression,  an 
assurance  —  far  removed  from  boldness  —  perceived 
by  all  though  accounted  for  differently  by  every 
member  of  the  family. 

With  time  fully  and  pleasantly  occupied,  the  va 
cation  was  soon  gone  and  the  last  night  at  home 
came  again. 

293 


294  YENSIE   WALTON. 

She  passed  this  evening  with  Fred,  and  sweet  and 
tender  was  their  parting,  for  Yensie  said  all  her 
farewells  to  him  that  night  as  she  must  start  very 
early  in  the  morning. 

She  did  start  early,  having  pressed  a  kiss  on  her 
cousin's  closed  eyes,  and  breathed  a  prayer  for  his 
comforting  and  guidance.  Then  her  uncle  drove  her 
to  the  depot  and  she  was  outward  bound  once  more. 

The  train  was  crowded  to-daj^,  fresh  passengers 
coming  in  at  every  station,  and  the  close  air  soon 

made  her  head  ache.     But  on  reaching  D ,  she 

looked  eagerly  for  a  glimpse  of  a  familiar  face. 
The  ten  minutes  passed,  however,  and  aboard  of  the 
outgoing  train  she  had  just  given  up  all  hopes  of 
seeing  Herbert  when  he  appeared. 

He  was  looking  about  anxiously,  as  if  in  search 
of  some  one,  and  Yensie,  seated  at  the  car  window, 
leaned  forward  hastily  in  her  eagerness  and  her 
handkerchief  caught  by  the  breeze  wafted  from  her 
hand  and  fluttered  to  his  feet. 

It  looked  intentional,  and  her  cheeks  crimsoned  as 
he  returned  it  to  her,  at  the  same  time  taking  her 
hand  in  unmistakable  pleasure. 

"  It  was  quite  an  accident,  Mr.  Gardenell,"  she 
said.  "As  I  caught  sight  of  your  face  I  leaned 
forward,  and  the  wind  took  it." 

"  A  very  timely  accident,"  he  replied,  smiling. 
"  You  might  have  escaped  me  had  it  not  been  for 
the  little  flutterer,  and  I  came  here  on  purpose  to 


YENSIE  WALTON.  295 

meet  you.  I  was  delayed,  however,  and  have  only 
this  minute,  but  for  that  I  am  thankful." 

He  was  looking  in  her  face,  his  hand  upon  the 
window  sill.  "I  had  almost  given  you  up,"  she 
said,  blushing  and  unconsciously  revealing  her  de 
sire  to  see  him. 

"  Then  you  were  looking  for  me  ?  I  am  glad,"  he 
said,  gleefully.  "I  saw  your  picture  at  Whedon's, 
Yensie — Ruth  showed  it  to  me.  Have  you  another 
you  can  give  me  ?  I  want  it  for  myself,  not  to  show 
to  others ;  it  will  be  valued.  Do  you  think  well 
enough  of  me  to  trust  me  with  it  ?  " 

He  was  regarding  her  earnestly.  The  cars  began 
to  move  slowly,  there  was  no  time  for  delay.  In 
packing  her  trunk  the  day  before  she  had  put  the 
only  two  left  in  her  pocket  that  she  might  leave 
one  with  Fred  as  a  parting  gift.  The  other  she  had 
with  her  now. 

One  moment  more  and  with  flushing  cheeks  she 
placed  the  envelope  containing  it  in  his  hand.  A 
pressure  of  the  little  palm,  a  simple  "  thank  you," 
and  he  stood  waving  his  hat  to  her  while  she,  waft 
ing  by  in  the  cars,  felt  vaguely  that  more  of  her 
self  than  her  picture  lay  in  his  hands. 

"•  Earnest  of  more,"  said  Herbert,  smiling,  as  he 
gazed  on  the  fair  photographed  face.  "I  was  very 
bold,  and  some  day  I  will  be  bolder  still  and  ask 
for  the  original,  and  I  feel  very  sure  I  will  not  be 
denied." 

That  night  after  his  room-mate   slept,  Gardenell 


296  YENSIE  WALTON. 

discovered  that  the  envelope  contained  more  than 
the  picture. 

"  Poetry,"  he  cried,  eagerly  scanning  the  sheet 
before  him  without  a  thought  that  it  might  be  un 
lawful.  The  paper  was  closely  but  carelessly 
written,  with  here  or  there  a  sentence  erased  or 
supplied,  and  was  evidently  a  crude  composition 
not  intended  for  other  eyes  than  her  own. 

Herbert  read  however  :  "  The  glorified  crutch, 
to  my  darling  Fred."  He  stopped  with  contracted 
brows.  "  '  Fred  ! '  Who  is  he  pray  ?  '  My  dar 
ling  Fred  '  —  rather  strong.  Her  cousin's  name  is 
Fred,  but  he  isn't  lame,  and  this  is  for  some  one 
lame.  It  isn't  a  bit  love-like  any  way,  but  she 
should  be  careful  how  she  addresses  any  one  so 
warmly." 

There  was  more  in  the  envelope  than  this. 
And  days  after,  Yensie,  while  hunting  for  the 
paper  upon  which  she  had  been  writing  during  her 
car-ride,  remembered  with  dismay  that  she  had 
tucked  it  into  the  envelope  with  her  picture  and 
the  draft  of  Fred's  poem. 

What  should  she  do  ?  Herbert  must  not  read 
them.  She  was  very  sure  she  had  written  his 
name,  she  had  thought  of  him  so  much  that  morn 
ing.  She  feared  the  lines  were  very  silly.  She 
took  comfort  at  thought  of  the  young  man's  char 
acter.  He  would  recognize  at  once  that  these 
papers  were  not  intended  for  his  eyes  and  return 
or  destroy  them. 


But  Herbert,  quite  unconscious  he  was  doing  anything  wrong  or  un- 
geritlemanly,  was  reading  with  evident  relish  every  word.     Page.  297- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  '297 

But  Herbert,  quite  unconscious  he  was  doing 
anything  wrong  or  ungentlemanly,  was  reading 
with  evident  relish  every  word. 

"  What  a  soul  that  girl  has  !  "  was  his  criticism 
on  the  crutch-poem.  "  What,  more  !  and  love,  as 
I  live.  Then  she  has  dared  dream  of  love,  I 
wonder  if  her  dreams  ever  point  my  way  ? "  and 
then  he  read,  his  face  blossoming  into  smiles,  the 
following  hastily  written  lines : 

"  'Tis  said  there's  such  a  thing  as  love,  true  love  ; 
"Tis  said  its  glorified  essence  dwells  above; 
But  that  here  through  earth  its  rivers  run 
And  shimmer  and  gleam  'neath  moon  and  sun, 
And  gladden  and  water,  yea,  every  one 
This  beautiful  river  of  love. 


I  wonder  if  I  have  heard  the  song  it  sings? 
I've  heard,  I  know,  but  my  best-loved  ones  took  wings! 
Yet  earth,  and  sky,  and  bird,  and  song, . 
Teach  me  to  love  though  they  are  gone. 
For  everything  in  the  world  is  borne 
Over  the  river  of  love. 


But  love  of  love,  delightfully  new  and  strange, 
Is  that  -which  fastens  two  hearts,  nor  knows  a  change. 
The  years  they  come,  and  the  years  they  go ; 
The  tides  they  ebb,  and  the  tides  they  flow; 
Yet  this  love  increasing  doth  stronger  grow, 
O  wonderful  river  of  love  I 


I  wonder  who  shall  love  as  well  as  this  ? 

Whose  heart  shall  teach  my  heart  to  thrill  with  bliss? 


298  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Wonder  and  wonder,  for  I  know  well 
That  love's  sweet  waters  within  me  swell, 
And  my  heart  shall  yet  with  some  other's  dwell 
Beside  the  river  of  love. 


O  where  does  he  live  ?    What  is  his  name  ?    My  love, 

0  when  shall  I  see  his  manly  form  ?    My  love! 

1  should  love  him  now  if  I  knew  him  mine, 
And  weave  his  name  in  my  homely  rhyme, 
And  flowers  of  beauty  plant  and  twine 

Over  the  river  of  love. 


Come,  love  of  mine!    My  heart  awaits  thy  touch, 
Thy  lips,  thy  voice,  must  first  awake  its  blush: 
The  flower  and  blossoms  vigil  keep 
Waiting  alone  the  breath  to  leap 
And  adorn  with  blossom,  and  bud,  and  leaf, 
The  glorious  river  of  love. 

Over  and  over  again  Herbert  read  these  verses. 
"The  flowers  and  blossoms  shall  not  keep  vigil 
long,"  he  said,  tenderly.  "  Not  more  eagerly  does 
your  heart  wait  love's  touch  than  mine  pants  to 
press  the  springs  which  hold  such  a  wealth  of 
affection  and  turn  its  loosened  currents  over  my 
waiting  soul." 

He  wrote  his  name  after  some  of  those  ques 
tions.  Was  it  very  foolish  ?  Were  you  never  in 
the  place  where  you  could  do,  did  do  so  foolish  a 
thing  reader,  nor  dreamed  it  was  foolish  until 
years  after  when,  alas,  you  had  been  robbed  of  the 
freshness  of  youthful  love  and  realized  not  your 
loss? 


YENSIE   WALTON.  299 

"  I  am  so  glad  she  stowed  this  wee  bit  in  here 
with  her  face,"  he  said,  touching  the  face  with  his 
lips  almost  reverently.  "  I  am  not  ashamed  to 
love  her,  and  some  day  I  will  teach  her  to  love  me 
if  God  does  not  teach  her  sooner." 

A  week  later  as  Madame  W dismissed  Yen- 

sie's  class  she  requested  that  young  lady  to  meet 
her  in  the  library  in  the  course  of  fifteen  minutes. 

Madame  was  a  cold,  haughty  woman  ;  very  tal 
ented  and  highly  respected  as  an  instructress,  but 
feared  far  more  than  loved  by  those  much  nearer 
to  her  than  her  pupils. 

Her  laws  were  rigid  and  exacting,  her  personal 
appearance .  awe-inspiring.  Yet  her  school  was 
always  full.  Few  of  the  young  ladies  cherished 
any  affection  for  her,  and  as  few  dared  to  disobey 
her.  Now  there  was  something  in  her  manner 
which  startled  Yensie  and  it  was  with  no  little 
trepidation  that  she  made  her  appearance  at  the 
appointed  time. 

Madame  was  writing  and  did  not  look  up  as 
Yensie  obeyed  her  request  to  be  seated.  On  the 
table  near  Madame's  arm  lay  a  letter  and  it 
occurred  to  the  girl  that  in  some  way  her  summons 
was  connected  with  this.  Who  it  was  from,  what 
it  contained,  she  did  not  even  guess,  but  she  felt 
strangely  convinced  that  it  was  the  cause  of 
Madame's  displeasure.  Therefore  the  lady's  first 


300  YENSIE   WALTON. 

question  did  not  startle  her  as  it  must  have  done  if 
asked  upon  entering  the  room. 

"  Miss  Walton,  while  home,  did  you  engage  to 
open  a  new  correspondence  ?  " 

"  No,  Madame,"  was  the  unhesitating  reply. 

"  Will  you  please  examine  this  hand-writing  and 
see  if  it  is  familiar?"  passing  the  letter  to  the 
maiden. 

"  I  never  saw  it  before."  And  the  lady  who 
was  scrutinizing  closely  the  countenance  before 
her,  saw  no  evidence  of  untruth. 

"  Have  you  any  suspicions  as  to  the  writer  ?  " 
still  gravely  demanded  the  preceptress. 

Yensie's  face  flushed  painfully,  for  in  that 
moment  the  thought  had  come  with  an  assurance 
amounting  to  certainty  that  Herbert  Gardenell's 
hand  had  penned  it.  Her  answer  was  unhesitat 
ing.  "  Yes,  Madame,  I  have." 

"  But  it  is  unexpected  ?  "  inquiringly. 

"  Wholly,"  was  the  candid  response. 

Madame  hesitated  a  moment.  Presently  she 
said :  "  Miss  Walton  I  have  never  had  reason  to 
doubt  your  word  or  find  fault  with  your  conduct. 
I  think  you  may  take  this  letter,  but  it  must  be  the 
last. 

"  What  did  old  stiff-back  want  of  you,  pray  ?  " 
cried  Jessie,  as  Yensie  entered  her  room.  Miss 
Crafton  had  petitioned  successfully  to  succeed 
Ruth.  "  Bless  me,  a  letter !  Why  couldn't  she 
give  it  to  you  when  the  other  letters  were  distrib- 


YBNSIE  WALTON.  301 

uted  ?  You  haven't  been  breaking  the  laws,  surely, 
by  corresponding  with  some  rustic  swain  ?  "  Then, 
noticing  her  friend's  flushed  face,  she  cried,  "  Hate 
ful  old  thing,  has  she  been  scolding  you  ?  What 
have  you  been  up  to,  my  own  ?  This  isn't  a 
love-letter  is  it  ?  "  seizing  Yensie's  two  hands  and 
reading  the  superscription. 

"  A  gentleman's  hand-writing  !  Oh !  fie,  fie  !  I 
thought  I  knew  you  better.  I  thought  you  were 
my  own  familiar,  and  that  we  were  to  live  together 
as  happy  recluses.  O  dreams  of  my  youth,  how 
vain  !  " 

Then,  seeing  her  friend  was  really  distressed,  she 
said,  more  quietly,  "  Sit  down  Puss,  and  put  that 
letter  away  if  you  dare  not  read  it  in  my  presence. 
I  shall  be  out  of  your  way  presently ;  but,  mark 
you,  I  must  know  every  horrid  word  it  contains." 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Yensie ;  but  a  little  after  when 
alone  she  opened  the  envelope.  She  supposed  it 
contained  a  photograph,  and  was  not  mistaken ; 
Herbert's  best  self  looked  through  earnest  eyes 
into  her  face. 

But  the  letter !  What  was  this  ?  She  surveyed 
with  astonishment  the  sheet  of  paper  before 
her.  No  heading,  no  date,  no  signature,  no 
writing.  In  the  centre  of  the  unruled  paper  was 
a  crutch  with  a  red  cushion.  Above  and  all  about 
it  seemed  a  soft  light  or  halo,  and  beneath  was  a 
capital  W,  made  with  wondrous  flourishes,  and 
two  crossed  hoes. 


302  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Yensie  saw  at  once  the  meaning  of  the  rebus.  — 
"  The  glorified  crutch  —  Whose?  "  But  there  was 
more  than  this.  A  few  strokes  of  the  pencil, 
moved  by  a  skilful  hand,  had  made  a  picture  in 
the  curve  of  the  large  capital,  and  there  she  saw  a 
little  stream  with  bending  trees  and  beneath  two 
tiny  figures.  By  and  by  as  she  studied  the  grace 
ful,  drooping  vines  which  hung  about  the  inner 
edge  of  the  loop  and  made  the  pictured  scene 
perfect,  she  found  they  formed  the  letters  H 
and  Y. 

When  Jessie  came  into  the  room  some  time  later 
she  found  the  bright,  young,  eager  face  still  study 
ing  the  page  before  it. 

"  What  is  it,  Ennie  ?  Anything  very  good  ?  " 
and  Yensie,  eager  to  share  her  pleasure,  asked, 
"  Can  you  keep  a  secret?" 

"  Until  death,"  was  the  laughing  reply. 

"  Your  lips  will  be  sealed  ?  " 

"  Hermetically."  And  Yensie  handed  her  the 
paper. 

"  Why,  what  is  this  ?  A  rebus  I  declare.  Was 
this  in  your  letter,  Ennie  ?  What  does  it  mean  ?  " 

"  You're,  a  veritable  interrogation  point,"  laughed 
Yensie,  as  sunny  and  brown  locks  mingled  over  the 
puzzle. 

"  I  can't  make  a  thing  out  of  it,"  at  last  cried 
Jessie,  lifting  her  flushed  face  to  Yensie's  laughing 
eyes.  "  Explain,  as  you  love  me,  for  I  see  you 
understand.  This  is  a  crutch,  evidently,  ami  sur- 


YENSIE   WALTON.  303 

rounded  by  light  or  glory.  But  what  can  it 
mean  ?  Why  should  a  gentleman  send  you  such  ? 
Come,  tell  me  quickly  ?  "  and  Yensie  explained. 

"  Isn't  he  cute  though,''  laughed  Jessie.  This 
was  intended  especially  to  blind  Madame  Sharp- 
eyes.  She  wouldn't  have  made  much  had  she 
opened  it.  Bless  me,  what  is  this  ?  An  H  !  what 
does  that  stand  for?  And  a  Y  !  Ah,  my  darling, 
this  is  Harry — Horace  —  Haskell  —  Hopkins  — 
Hodgman  —  Hammond  —  Hastings  —  Hercules 
which  I  beseech  you.  ?  Young  —  Yates  —  Yonk- 
ers " 

"  Stop,  stop  Jessie.  I  entertain  real  fears  for 
you  when  you  talk  so  fast.  Those  letters  are  not 
the  writer's  initials." 

"Then  what  are  they?  Ah,  I  have  it.  Y  is 
for  Yensie,  and  H  for  ?  "  — looking  at  her  compan 
ion  inquiringly. 

"  Herbert,  Miss  Interrogation-point." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Miss  Crafton.  "  But  Her 
bert  ought  to  be  staid,  and  grave,  and  thoughtful. 
This  fellow  is  evidently  a  scamp.  Not  well- 
named." 

"  There  you  mistake,"  said  her  companion,  warm 
ly.  "  He  is  all  that  is  good,  and  earnest,  and  true  ; 
he  is  a  minister." 

"  Deliver  us !  "  cried  Jessie,  raising  her  hands  and 
eyes.  "  Yensie  Walton,  you  are  not  deceiving  me  ? 
What  would  good  Pastor  Longface,  of  blessed  mem 
ory,  (and  his  memory  to  me  is  always  more  blessed 


304  YENSIE  WALTON. 

than  his  presence)  say  to  this  ?  A  minister !  My 
horror  increases  momentarily,  my  blood  runs  cold, 
that  a  minister  should  disgrace  his  holy  office  by 
such  lightness !  " 

"Why,  Jessie,  this   is   only  fun,"   said  Yensie. 

"  Bless  you,  my  gosling,  I  know  it  and  am  ex 
ceedingly  edified  thereby,"  said  the  saucy  miss. 
"  He  is  delightfully  human  at  least  and  I  know  it 
would  be  refreshing  just  to  see  his  face  after  listen 
ing  to  one  of  my  dear  pastor's  sermons  on  '  The 
elucidation  of  emp}rreal  spirituality;  or,  'The 
doctrines  and  opinions  of  our  forefathers.'  To  my 
think,  he  makes  more  opinions  than  doctrines  of  the 
latter,  and  more  refined  nonsense  than  spirituality 
of  the  former.  But  I  see  quite  enough  of  that 
dear,  melancholy  soul  at  home  without  lingering  OR 
him  longer  at  present.  To  return  to  this  human, 
human.  This  young  theologian  is  not  a  full-fledged 

minister  ?  This  comes  from  D ,"  smilingly 

lifting  the  envelope  she  had  been  scrutinizing. 

"A  student,"  explained  Yensie. 

"  Ah !  then  there  is  a  chance  for  improvement, 
but  I'd  really  like  to  see  him.  Is  this  all  your  let 
ter  contained?  " 

Yensie  handed  her  friend  the  photograph,  which 
was  examined  critically.  "  Not  handsome  enough," 
she  said  at  length.  "Beautifully  formed,  but 
—  well  I  love  a  handsome  man." 

"  Mr.  Gardeneil  is  handsome,"  said  Yensie, 
stoutly. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  305 

"  I  beg  to  differ  from  you,  if  this  is  Mr  Garde- 
nell's  correct  picture,'  was  the  quiet  reply,  eyes 
still  intent  on  the  photograph. 

"  Correct  picture  !  "  said  Yensie,  warmly  ;  "  Her 
bert's  face  is  one  that  cannot  be  photographed  cor 
rectly  ;  it  changes  with  his  every  emotion ;  I  wish 
you  could  see  him  smile  once." 

"  I  wish  I  could  if  that  would  please  you,"  said 
Jessie,  "  but  a  handsome  face  is  handsome  always. 
Now  your  pictures  were  very  beautiful.  I  wish  you 
could  see  Harry  Campbell ;  he  is  just  the  hand 
somest  man  I  ever  saw.  I  met  him  two  years  ago 
when  visiting  Aunt  Jule ;  I  declare  I  envied  the 
grown  up  misses  who  consumed  his  attentions.  He 
usually  counted  me  in  with  the  children,  and  I 
fourteen,  1  was  indignant ;  but  then  I  had  nothing 
to  complain  of,  I  made  up  in  candies  and  romps 
what  I  lost  in  dignity.  But  to  come  back,  if  Harry 
stood  beside  this  Herbert  of  yours  I  think  you 
would  understand  what  I  mean.'% 

"  Herbert  does  not  lose  by  the  comparison,  I 
assure  you,"  said  Yensie,  eagerly.  "  I  have  seen 
them  side  by  side  often,  and  came  very  near  for 
getting  Harry  was  present  each  time.  Herbert  is 
larger,  more  kingly  in  his  bearing,  more  intellectual ; 
I  admit  Harry's  features  are  more  regular,  and  that 
he  is  elegant  and  courtly,  and  yet  I  know  you 
would  feel  at  once  the  charm  of  Herbert's  manner. 
No  one  can  resist  it ;  but  he  must  be  seen  to  be 
appreciated.  Harry's  beauty  is  of  the  sort  that 


306  YENSIE   WALTON. 

can  be  imitated  and  set,  but .  Herbert's  is  inimita 
ble." 

"Good,  well  done,"  laughed  Jessie;  "you  are 
an  advocate  whose  heart  is  evidently  in  her  plea.  I 
will  not  contradict  you.  I  admit  this  picture  grows 
as  I  look  at  it,  and  I  could  imagine  as  you  spoke 
that  his  lips  moved.  Take  it,  take  it  my  darling, 
take  your  picture  ere  its  pictured  eyes  convert  me 
to  your  opinion.  I  declare  they  are  penetrating  to 
my  soul.  Now  sit  and  tell  me  where  you  first  met 
Harry  Campbell  for  I  am  curious.  He  is  my  beau- 
ideal  of  manly  perfection." 

This  led  to  a  long  conversation.  "  He  went  to 
Europe  with  his  uncle  and  has  not  returned,"  said 
Jessie  as  Yensie  ended.  "  'Tis  said  he  loves  an 
English  woman  and  that  is  what  keeps  him." 

"  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  it,"  said  Yensie,  but 
she  had  no  reason  to  urge  when  Jessie  pressed 
her. 

"  You  will  answer  your  letter  of  course  ?  "  said 
Miss  Crafton,  presently. 

"  If  Madame  will  permit.      I  intend  to  ask  her." 

"  I  shouldn't  ask  permission.  How  much  wiser 
would  she  be  if  you  dropped  a  letter  in  the  office 
some  day.  I  couldn't  enjoy  life  with  your  con 
science. 

But  Yensie  decided  to  ask  permission. 

"  Does  anything  in  -your  letter  lead  you  to  sus 
pect  the  young  man  will  write  again  unless  you  bid 


YENSIE   WALTON.  307 

him  desist  ?  "  asked  Madame  when  Yensie  preferred 
her  request. 

"  No,  Madame,"  was  the  reply. 

"Then,  why  need  you  trouble  yourself  to 
write  ?  " 

"It  will  be  no  trouble.  I  wish  to  answer  it  very 
much ; "  and  the  girl  hesitated.  He  asked  me  a 
question  I  should  like  to  answer." 

Over  Madame's  grave  face  flitted  something  like 
a  smile.  "  Do  you  think  it  prudent  for  school-girls 
to  answer  such  questions?"  she  queried,  looking 
steadily  into  the  fresh  young  face.  "  Are  you  not 
too  young  to  decide  these  matters  ?  " 

"  But  this  question  is  on  a  matter  already  decid 
ed,"  said  the  girl  raising  her  somewhat  puzzled 
eyes  to  her  teacher's  face.  Something  there  re 
vealed  the  full  import  of  the  lady's  question,  and 
with  a  face  covered  with  blushes,  she  cried  out,  "  O 
Madame,  you  have  mistaken  me  altogether." 

She  stood  for  one  moment  hesitating,  the  blood 
tingling  in  her  cheeks,  the  next  she  laid  the  rebus 
in  the  hands  of  the  lady. 

Madame  didn't  let  her  eyes  even  drop  toward 
the  paper.  "  I  do  not  wish  to  read  your  letter, 
dear,"  she  said  with  unusual  kindness. 

"  But  I  wish  you  to.  You  will  oblige  me  very 
much  if  you  will,"  Yensie  said,  impulsively ;  and 
the  lady  cast  her  eyes  over  the  paper. 

"  Miss  Walton,  I  do  not  understand  this,"  she 


308  YENSIE   WALTON. 

said,  half  smiling.  "  Is  it  hallowed  crutch,  light 
ened  crutch,  or  what  ?  " 

Yensie's  eyes  were  gleaming  now.  "  '  Glorified 
crutch.  Whose?  '  "  she  read,  slowly. 

"  Madame  raised  her  head,  a  look  of  unusual  in 
terest  on  her  face.  "  I  am  still  in  the  dark,"  she 
said,  smiling. 

"  You  remember  hearing  that,  through  an  acci 
dent,  my  little  nephew  became  lame  for  life  ? " 
questioned  Yensie  ;  and  Madame  bowed. 

"  When  I  went  home  I  found  him  very  unhappy 
because  he  must  always  use  a  crutch.  After  a 
while  he  became  more  reconciled,  almost  joyful  in 
the  thought  that  he  could  bear  for  Jesus,  though 
he  might  not  do.  A  remark  of  his  one  day,  while 
gazing  on  his  crutch  over  which  the  setting  sun 
was  streaming,  led  to  my  writing  a  little  poem  en 
titled,  '  The  glorified  crutch.'  These  verses  acci 
dentally  fell  into  the  hands  of  a  friend,  who  had 
not  heard  of  Fred's  affliction,  and  he  has  taken  this 
queer  way  to  ask  me  for  whom  they  were  written." 

Madame's  face  was  certainly  more  beautiful,  in 
its  smiling  earnestness,  than  Yensie  had  ever  seen 
it  before. 

"  Will  you  please  give  me  a  copy  of  that  little 
poem,  Yensie  ? "  she  asked,  for  the  first  time  ad 
dressing  her  so  familiarly. 

"  Yes,  Madame,  if  you  wish  ;  but  it  is  very  si  in- 


YENSIE   WALTON.  309 

pie,"  Yensie  answered,  pleased,  yet  troubled,  by 
the  request. 

41  And  this  was  all  the  letter  contained? "  mused 
Madame,  half  questioningly. 

"  Oh  no,  Madame,  there  was  a  photograph." 

"  Will  you  let  me  see  that  ? "  asked  the  lady, 
and  Yerisie  blushingly  laid  it  in  her  hand. 

Was  she  mistaken  ?  or  did  Madame  W 's  face 

suddenly  blanch  as  she  gazed  on  it?  The  voice 
was  surely  husky  that  asked  his  name. 

"  Herbert  Gardenell."  The  lady  repeated  the 
name  softly  after  Yensie,  and  added,  "  I  thought 
so,"  sighing. 

"  How  old  is  he  ?  Where  is  he  ? "  she  ques 
tioned,  absently. 

"  I  do  not  know  his  age,"  said  Yensie,  wonder- 
ingly;  "he  is  a  student  at  the  Theological  Semi 
nary  at  D ." 

"  Ah !  "  that  was  all  the  reply.  Presently  she 
added,  "  Yes,  you  may  write  to  him.  Tell  him  I 
think  his  ingenuity  deserves  an  answer,  but  he 
must  not  repeat  the  experiment.  Good  afternoon, 
Yensie,  you  are  a  good,  obedient  child." 

Then,  as  Madame  saw  the  girl  still  hesitate,  she 
remembered  the  picture  yet  in  her  hand.  "  Ex 
cuse  me,  I  forgot;  this  is  your  picture.  It  is  a 
noble  face.  I  knew  one  years  ago  much  like  it." 
And  Yensie,  out  in  the  hall,  walked  slowly  to  her 
room,  wondering  much  at  the  change  in  Madame, 


310  YENSIE   WALTON. 

and  if  she  would  ever  be  to  her  again  the  stern- 
browed  woman  she  had  been  heretofore. 

She  never  was  quite.  Few  of  the  scholais  but 
noticed  how  her  face  lighted  as  it  rested  011  the 
girl.  She  had  been  proud  of  her  before  —  her  tal 
ents,  her  scholarship.  Now  she  seemed  almost  to 
love  her. 

She  did  not  allow  the  young  girl  to  forget  the 
promised  poem ;  and  long  after,  when  Yensie  was 
leaving  her  school  forever,  she  called  her  to  the 
library,  and  there  told  her  the  ministry  of  that  sim 
ple  poem  to  her  soul. 

"  I  have  been  out  of  tune,  disjointed,  all  my  life," 
she  said.  "  Your  simple  words,  '  He  could  bear  for 
Jesus  if  he  could  not  do,'  led  me  to  think.  The 
little  poem,  under  God,  brought  me  again  to  my 
Saviour's  feet.  I  have  been  a  better  and  happier 
woman  for  having  you  here  ;  you  have  my  blessing 
wherever  you  go.  I  trust  your  life  will  be  happy ; 
the  foundation  is  right.  Perhaps  it  will  be  pleas 
ant  to  you  to  remember  some  day,  that  you  helped 
a  stubborn-hearted,  stiff-necked  backslider  back  to 
the  cross.  I  have  tried  to  carry  my  end  of  it 
since." 

Then  she  kissed  the  young  face  tenderly,  and 
added,  "  God  bless  you ;  and,  my  child,  remember 
it  is  never  best  to  sacrifice  affection  for  ambition." 

For  about  two  weeks  after  sending  out  his  ques 
tion,  Herbert  watched  the  mail  closely,  though 


YENSIE   WALTON.  311 

with  small  hopes  of  receiving  an  answer.  His  de 
light  was  unbounded,  however,  on  at  length  receiv 
ing  a  dainty  little  envelope,  directed  unmistakably 
by  the  same  hand  that  had  penned  his  treasured 
poems. 

He  hastened  to  a  secluded  lot  back  of  the  Semi 
nary,  where  he  often  resorted  for  study  and  med 
itation,  and  there,  reclining  on  the  soft  turf, 
opened  and  read  his  letter  adding,  here  and  there, 
a  comment  of  his  own. 

He  demurred  a  little  over  the  opening  words, 
"Friend  Herbert."  He  could  not  know,  though 
he  half  guessed  the  many  debatings  Yensie  had 
held  ere  she  opened  her  letter  thus. 

If  she  began,  "Mr.  Gardenell,"  then  she  must 
either  add,  "Sir,"  which  seemed  too  stiff,  or 
"  Dear  Sir,"  which  she  feared  might  be  too  famil 
iar  ;  so  remembering  how  he  had  urged  her  several 
times  to  call  him  Herbert,  she  decided  on  this  way 
as  the  one  least  open  to  criticism  : 

"  FRIEND  HERBERT  : 

"  By  permission  of   Madame  W 1  write  to 

answer  the  question  asked  in  your  rather  orig 
inal  communication.  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  by 
just  what  appellation  to  dignify  that  communica 
tion,  although  I  have  a  few  facts  to  state  with 
regard  to  it ;  one  of  which  is  that  Madame  bade 
me  assure  you,  your  ingenuity  alone  obtained  for 
you  this  reward ;  and  another,  that  you  are  by  no 


312  YENSIB  WALTON. 

means  expected  to  repeat  the  experiment,  at  least, 
in  the  same  direction. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  Madame  is  anxious  lest 
incipient  genius  be  stunted  if  left  without  any 
reward,  while  as  truly  fearful,  that  without  barrier 
or  obstacle  to  overcome,  it  may  lack  the  stimulus 
which  nerves  to  greater  undertakings.  I  have 
deduced  these  conclusions,  however,  rather  from 
her  position  than  her  words.  '  Actions  speak 
louder,'  etc.  ('  Funny  little  Puss  ! '  commented 
Herbert.) 

"  Of  course  you  remember  little  cousin  Fred. 
Last  winter,  through  an  accident,  his  hip  became  so 
injured  as  to  leave  him  a  cripple  for  life.  I  was 
not  home  at  the  time  and  saw  him  for  the  first 
time  since  his  illness  during  my  last  vacation.  I 
found  him  anything  but  reconciled  to  his  situa 
tion.  Active,  stirring  boy  that  he  had  been  this 
was  not  strange ;  but  all  the  gathered  bitterness  of 
his  heart  seemed  to  vent  itself  upon  the  hapless 
crutch,  without  which  he  could  not  walk. 

"  I  have  always  had  much  influence  with  him, 
mainly,  I  believe  through  the  power  of  song,  but 
surely  that  afternoon  of  my  arrival  the  power  of 
God  must  have  been  with  me. 

"  At  first  my  words  but  angered  him,  though  I 
think  I  was  in  full  sympathy  with  him  in  his  sor 
row,  and  deeply  convinced  that,  had  the  crutch 
been  given  to  me  instead,  it  would  only  have  been 


YENSIE   WALTON.  313 

through  the  help  of  the  Crucified  I  could  have 
accepted  it  patiently. 

"  Dear  Fred !  After  awhile  he  seemed  to  com 
prehend  that  thought,  too  great  for  unaided 
human  conception  to  fathom,  that  so  strange  a 
gift,  might  be  and  doubtless  was,  the  outgrowth  of 
Infinite  Love  though  looking  so  sadly  ill.  But 
even  as  he  accepted  it  from  the  hand  of  the 
Father,  and  lifting  his  bowed  head,  stretched  out 
his  little  hand  to  take  it  willingly,  the  setting  sun, 
streaming  in  at  the  open  window,  threw  a  flood  of 
golden  light  over  its  crimson  cushion  and  over  the 
wall  against  which  it  rested,  crowning  it  with 
glory. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  look  that  passed  over 
his  wan  face,  as,  lifting  his  eyes  to  mine,  he  pointed 
to  it,  exclaiming,  '  Look,  Ennie,  look,  my  crutch  is 
glorified !  Who  knows  but  God  sent  it  to  help  me 
to  the  New  Jerusalem?  and  I  had  rather  limp 
there  than  not  get  there  at  all.' 

"  Those  words  and  that  scene  gave  rise  to  the 
little  poem  which  fell  into  your  hands  so  strangely. 
You  must  have  known  on  finding  the  poem,  that  it 
was  not  intended  for  your  eyes.  ('  No,  I  think  it 
was,'  quoth  Herbert, '  It  certainly  came  to  them  ! ') 

"  The  day  before  leaving  home  I  came  across  the 
two  photographs  which  I  had  forgotten  I  pos 
sessed.  I  thought  of  Fred,  and  put  them  in  my 
pocket,  together  with  the  little  poem  which  I  was 


314  YENSIE  WALTON. 

to  copy  for  him.  I  left  the  copy  and  one  picture 
beside  his  pillow  the  morning  I  met  you. 

"  During  the  car-ride  I  amused  n^self  with 
scribbling  —  an  unfortunate  habit  of  mine,  ('sor 
ry  I  can't  agree  with  you,'  again  commented 
Herbert,)  and  when  done  placed  the  paper  in  the 
envelope  lest  it  should  be  drawn  from  my  pocket 
and  exposed  to  stranger  eyes,  never  dreaming  that 
by  so  doing  I  was  preserving  it  for  yours.  I  am 
very  sorry.  ('  I  am  glad.')  You  must  think  me 
very  silly  indeed,  ('  I  am  of  quite  a  different  opin 
ion  ')  if  you  have  read  all,  as  I  hope  you  have  not. 
('  but  I  have.' ) 

"  Please  destroy  the  paper  and  forget  you  ever 
found  it."  (Herbert  stopped  here.  '  I'd  like  to 
oblige  you,  dear  girl,  but  indeed  I  can't  do  that,' 
lie  said,  resuming  his  reading.) 

"  The  warm  spring  air  coming  in  at  my  window, 
and  the  twitter  of  a  beautiful  robin  who  has  chosen 
for  his  residence  a  tree  close  beside  it,  reminds  me 
of  coming  joys.  ('  Sensible  robin,  I  envy  him  ;  he's 
fond  of  good  society.')  How  delicious  the  country 
about  Valley  Farm  just  now  !  I  grow  homesick  at 
the  thought. 

"  The  spring  is  one  long,  glad  and  almost  irre 
sistible  call  outward.  Not  only  the  lovely  flowers, 
hidden  'neath  mother  earth,  hear  the  glad  sum 
mons,  but  such  a  prisoned  school-girl  as  myself ;  I 
pant  for  new  freedom.  The  sweet  green  fields  and 
shaded  woods  have  wondrous  charms  for  me.  I  envy 


YENSIE   WALTON.  3lD 

you  somewhat  your  school  situation.  It  makes 
so  much  difference  whether  we  study  under  blue 
skies,  or  between  brick  walls.  Not  that  I  have 
only  brick  walls  or  you  only  blue  skies,  but  that 
nature's  beautifiers  in  abundance  stretch  all  about 
you  living  verities,  while  with  me  they  are  mostly 
suggestive;  one  robin,  one  tree,  one  garden-bed. 

"  Do  you  know  God  is  very  good  to  you  indeed. 
I  can  but  remember  your  father,  it  is  so  great  a 
good  to  possess  parents,  yet  most  of  all  I  envy  you 
the  blessed  privilege  of  preaching  the  gospel  of 
Christ  by  and  by.  Were  I  a  man  I  think  I  would 
prefer  it  to  a  crown.  Do  you  rightly  estimate  your 
high  catting  ? 

"  Oh,  pardon  me  for  such  questioning,  and  for 
this  long  letter,  please  do  not  tire,  it  will  not  be  re 
peated  you  know. 

"  Sincerely  your  friend, 

«YENSIE  WALTON." 

"  P.  S. — I  see  in  reading  over  my  letter  I  have 
forgotten  to  thank  you  for  your  picture.  I  do  so 
most  heartily.  It  is  as  like  you  as  it  can  be,  and  I 
almost  expected  you  would  speak  to  me  when  first 
I  looked  at  your  paper  self.  Do  not  think  for  a 
moment  that  Madame  opened  your  letter ;  not  at 
all ;  but  in  asking  permission  to  answer  your  ques 
tion  I  found  it  unavoidable,  or  thought  so  at  the 
time,  to  withhold  a  sight  of  it.  My  room-mate  is 
coming ;  I  must  close.  Y.  W." 


310  YENSIE   WALTON. 

Herbert's  face  was  a  study  as  he  read  and  re-read 
this  precious  epistle ;  it  was  so  tender,  so  brooding. 

"  Poor  little  bird,  I  would  willingly  change  nests 
with  it,"  he  whispered ;  "  but  what  a  gay  little 
thing  it  is,  and  so  pure,  so  sweet.  Don't  envy  me, 
little  girl,  come  share  with  me  my  privileges  that 
were  better.  I  think  I  will  not  tire  if  you  write 
very  often  and  always  so  delightfully." 

"  Just  a  bit  of  sweet  poetry,"  he  murmured  as 
he  read  again  the  latter  part  of  the  letter.  "  Moth 
er-nature  ought  to  lavish  her  choicest  blessings  on 
such  an  appreciative  child.  My  liig h calling!  Sure 
ly  God  is  good  to  me,  and  this  is  a  fresh  proof  of 
the  fact,"  patting  the  letter  tenderly. 

"'Paper  self;'"  he  smiled  over  this,  and  took 
from  his  bosom  an  envelope  and  out  of  it  a  pictured 
face.  "  And  this  is  your  paper  self;  only  paper  yet 
very  dear.  I  wish  you  were  here  in  reality  to-day. 
I  would  draw  you  to  a  seat  beside  me,  and  give  you 
your  first  lesson  in  love.  If  I  had  but  known 
Madame  would  not  examine  the  letter  I  would 
have  asked  another  and  far  more  important  ques 
tion." 

Herbert  felt  very  much  like  answering  this  letter. 
Very  much  like  daring  Madame's  displeasure  and 
asking  the  question  of  his  life.  Many  were  the  let 
ters  he  penned  only  to  destroy.  "  No,"  he  at  last 
decided.  He  would  wait  and  ask  that  question 
when  he  could  look  in  her  face  and  read  in  her  eyes 
the  answer  before  her  lips  could  frame  it. 


CHAPTER    XXIII. 


"  I  cannot  but  remember  such  things  were, 
That  were  most  precious  to  me." 

— SKAKSPEABE. 


AINLY  Herbert  lingered  at  the  station  for 
another  glimpse  of  Yensie.  School  days 
ended,  he  started  home  to  find  his  father 
waiting  to  send  him  westward  to  settle  an  estate 
for  his  mother's  sister,  whose  husband  having  died 
suddenly,  left  his  affairs  in  such  a  condition  as 
needed  immediate  care. 

Herbert  perfected  his  preparations  for  departure 
with  an  eye  to  visiting  Wynn  for  a  few  hours,  and 
was  sorely  disappointed,  on  reaching  there,  to  hear 
Yensie  was  with  Miss  Grey.  He  was  obliged  to 
go  on,  however,  and  await  another  opportunity  of 
pressing  his  suit. 

317 


318  YENSIE  WALTON. 

Yensie  was  indeed  with  Alice.  She  had  received 
a  letter  from  that  lady,  urging  her  to  come  to  her. 

"  I  am  not  ill,  dear  child,"  she  wrote,  "  but  I 
feel  that  I  must  see  you  soon,  if  at  all ;  "  and  Yen 
sie  started  at  once. 

The  morning  of  Yeusie's  departure,  she  found 
beside  her  strapped  trunk  a  handkerchief  of  Alice 
Grey's,  which  she  had  overlooked.  She  had 
brought  it  to  school  to  await  an  occasion  like  this, 
and  wondering  that  she  should  have  left  it  out, 
thrust  it  hastily  in  the  mouth  of  her  satchel. 

From  warm  embraces  and  tender  farewells  she 
went  forth  that  morning,  for  many  of  her  class 
mates  were  not  to  return  again.  The  next  year 
was  an  extra  one,  for  the  pursuance  of  studies  al 
ready  begun,  and  many  did  not  take  it.  Jessie 
Crafton  had  decided  to,  however,  much  to  her 
mother's  delight,  who,  according  to  the  maiden's 
own  report,  "  mistook  love  of  her  room-mate  for 
love  of  study." 

It  was  a  pleasant  ride,  all  in  a  new  direction, 
which  our  friend  had  this  day,  and  arriving  in  New 
York,  she  took  a  stage  to  cross  the  city  to  another 
depot,  from  which  she  was  to  conclude  her  journey. 
There  were  several  passengers  in  the  stage  when 
she  entered ;  but  it  soon  stopped  to  take  up  a  gen 
tleman,  who  seated  himself  opposite. 

It  was  a  common  pastime  of  Yensie's  to  study 
faces,  and  as  a  matter  of  course  she  studied  this 
one  so  near.  It  was  a  dark,  brooding  face,  marked 


YENSEE  WALTON.  319 

with  evidences  of  unbridled  appetites ;  yet  before 
long  she  became  intensely  interested  in  it,  and 
quite  certain  she  had  seen  it  before.  But  where  ? 
even  as  she  wondered  she  opened  her  satchel,  and 
her  eyes  met  the  handkerchief  with  Alice  Grey's 
name  turned  upward. 

In  a  moment  that  night  spent  with  Miss  Grey, 
when  she  had  revealed  to  the  young  girl  the  sad 
story  of  her  life,  rose  before  Yensie,  and  —  yes; 
she  felt  absolutely  certain  this  man  before  her  was 
the  one  whose  picture  had  been  shown  her  that 
night. 

It  was  the  same  face.  Weaker,  less  beautiful, 
but  the  same.  The  longer  she  studied  this  dissat 
isfied  countenance,  with  its  restless  eyes,  the  more 
assured  she  felt  that  she  was  right. 

There  was  the  same  broad,  intellectual  brow ; 
the  same  dark  grey  eyes.  The  fresh  complexion 
was  sallow  now,  the  smooth  skin  marred  with  fur 
rows  more  the  result  of  passion  and  debauch  than 
of  years.  He  drank,  evidently ;  and  about  his 
mouth  were  signs  of  tobacco.  Marks  of  dissipation 
were  written  all  over  him  ;  yet  any  one,  in  seeing 
what  he  was,  could  judge  as  well  what  he  might 
have  been.  There  was  something  in  his  appear 
ance  that  roused  all  the  pity  of  this  young  heart, 
for  he  looked  very  unhappy.  A  settled  despair 
rested  on  every  feature ;  an  utter  carelessness  of 
life  and  its  issues. 

He  was  a  large  man  ;  as  tall,  though  not  as  finely 


320  YENSIE  WALTON. 

formed  as  Herbert  Gardenell.  Somehow  with  the 
thought  of  Herbert,  came  the  remembrance  that 
this  man  had  been  young  once,  the  loved  of  some 
mother's  heart,  the  tenderly  cherished  of  spotless 
Alice  Grey. 

Was  it  true?  Could  this  be  Walter  Wilde ?  If 
so,  did  he  still  cherish  one  warm  sentiment  towards 
her  friend  ?  She  thought  of  the  handkerchief ; 
Should  she  drop  it?  Almost  without  another 
thought,  glancing  about  to  see  that  none  observed 
her,  she  sent  the  little  flutterer  on  its  errand. 

It  lodged,  as  she  had  hoped  it  would,  at  the  gen 
tleman's  feet.  He  saw  it  as  it  fell,  lifted  it  me 
chanically,  and  looked  about  to  see  who  dropped 
it ;  but  no  one  saw  him.  Yensie  appeared  to  be 
busy  otherwise  just  then,  though  not  a  look  of  his 
escaped  her. 

She  saw  him  turn  to  the  name  written  in  the 
corner.  She  saw  he  started  visibly,  and  looked 
eagerly  into  every  face  about  him  as  if  seeking 
one  he  knew.  She  met  his  gaze  unflinchingly,  and 
marked  the  almost  relief  with  which  he  ended  his 
scrutiny.  Then  she  noticed  that,  with  a  hasty 
glance  about,  to  be  sure  no  one  observed  him,  he 
placed  the  wee  thing  in  his  bosom,  and  turned  his 
eyes  out  of  the  window. 

He  was  striving  to  master  some  emotion,  Yensie 
was  sure,  and  when  a  little  after  he  stopped  the 
coach  and  got  out,  she  followed. 

The  child  of  impulse,  had  she  been  asked  she 


YENSIE   WALTON.  321 

could  not  have  given  a  reason  for  following 
Walter  Wilde,  for  it  was  he.  Fome  indefinite 
idea  that  sometime  in  some  way  she  might  help 
him  to  a  better  life,  or  a  desire  to  know  just  where 
to  find  him  should  occasion  require,  led  her  on. 

She  saw  him  stop  once  at  a  shop  window  and 
take  out  the  handkerchief.  Once  more  he  read 
the  name,  once  more  the  convulsed  movement  of 
his  features  betrayed  his  emotions  as  he  thrust  it 
back  to  his  bosom,  and  hastened  on ;  he  was  not 
utterly  hardened,  she  thought. 

Up  one  street  down  another,  a  long,  long  way 
he  led  her,  but  at  last  stopped  before  an  old-fash 
ioned,  rather  shabby  house  in  a  back  street. 

After  the  door  closed  behind  him,  Yensie  took 
the  number  of  the  house,  and  retracing  her  steps 
found  the  name  of  the  street  and  entering  them 
upon  a  page  of  her  pocket  memoranda,  turned 
to  inquire  her  way  to  the  depot. 

Then  she  first  began  to  realize  how  weary  she 
was,  and  to  wonder  if  she  had  lost  the  train. 

She  had  indeed,  and  a  dreary  waiting  for  several 
hours  in  the  depot,  was  the  result,  yet  she  "was  not 
sorry.  How  she  prayed  as  she  tarried,  that  the  lit 
tle  cambric  handkerchief  might  be  God's  messen 
ger  to  stir  into  life  the  dying  embers  of  manhood 
still  left  in  that  sinful  heart. 

Over  and  over  she   pressed  her  plea,  that  this 

»oor,  wretched,  defiled  man,  who   claimed  a  place 

in  her   estimation,  only  because   he  had   been  so 


322  YENSIE   WALTON. 

near  to  her  friend,  might  be  saved ;  not  only  for 
Alice  Grey's  sake,  but  for  the  Saviour's :  "  For 
thou  art  able,  there  are  no  impossibilities  with  thee, 
my  Father,"  she  whispered. 

Think  you  God  heard  ?  "  And  if  we  know  that 
he  hear  us,  whatsoever  we  ask,  we  know  that  we 
have  the  petitions  that  we  desired  of  him." — 
1  John  5:  15. 

Alice  had  given  Yensie  up  for  the  day,  when 
suddenly  she  made  her  appearance. 

"  My  darling,  darling  child,  how  came  you  to  be 
so  late  ?  "  she  inquired. 

"Lost  my  train,  Alice,  tramping  through  the 
city  and  was  obliged  to  await  another,"  was  the 
laughing  reply.  "  How  good  it  seems  to  be  with 
you  again ;  but  I  can't  half  see  you  in  this  twi 
light;  come  to  the  door  and  let  me  look  at  you." 

There  was  a  long  gazing  into  each  other's  face, 
a  removing  of  car-soiled  garments ;  a  bath,  a 
lunch,  a  long  talk  on  the  garden  bench  and  a 
sleepy  "  are  you  feeling  quite  well,  Alice,"  asked 
as  Miss  Yensie  dropped  to  sleep,  a  question 
repeated  perhaps,  for  the  twentieth  time  since  her 
arrival. 

It  was  a  delightful  place  to  visit,  that  sea-side 
cottage ;  and  many  happy  hours  Yensie  spent 
watching  the  waves  come  in  over  the  white  sands 
and  break  in  ripples  over  her  bare  feet. 

Every  morning  she  walked  to  the  beach  with 
Mrs.  Grey,  and  seating  her  carefully  in  some 


YENSIE  WALTON.  323 

sheltered  nook,  sat  at  her  feet  singing  her  songs, 
or  amusing  her  with  bright  bits  of  school  life. 
Sometimes  she  donned  a  bathing  suit  and  went 
into  the  waters.  Now  wading,  now  swimming, 
now  ducking  after  some  glittering  shell,  now  leap 
ing  some  coming  wave,  much  to  the  delight  of  the 
bright-eyed  old  lady  to  whom  this  young  life 
seemed  ever  imparting  some  fresh  delight,  like  her 
favorite  ocean  of  which  she  never  tired. 

This  love  of  ocean,  the  old  life  near  its  end  and 
the  new  life  but  begun  held  in  common,  and  it  was 
a  tie  between  them.  Yensie  soon  found  that  in 
amusing  this  querulous  old  lady  and  thus  giving 
Alice  a  chance  to  perform  her  few  household  tasks, 
she  could  help  her  most ;  and  so  she  exerted  her 
self  many  times  when  it  was  not  altogether  taste 
ful. 

She  learned  very  soon  that  not  the  lightest  of 
her  friend's  troubles  was  bearing  with  her  mother, 
who  could  be  better  pleased  by  any  other  than  by 
the  tender  ministries  of  her  dutiful  child. 

"  You  are  so  pretty,  so  pretty,"  Mrs.  Grey  would 
say  sometimes  smoothing  Yensie's  glossy  curls. 
"  My  Lois  was  lovely  too.  Not  like  Alice,  not  at 
all.  She  was  so  lively,  so  happy  a  bird." 

Yensie  soon  found  it  was  quite  useless  to  try  to 
convince  this  woman  of  Alice's  superiority.  "  Oh, 
she  is  too  grave,  my  dear ;  I  worry  over  her  all  the 
time."  And  then  she  would  go  into  a  long  detail 
of  Lois'  supposed  excellences. 


324  YEJTSIE  WALl'Otf. 

In  spite  of  her  years  Mrs.  Grey  was  still  beauti 
ful.  She  was  tall  and  queenly,  and  very  gay  in 
her  dress,  even  in  her  old  age,  but  childish  and  very 
much  attached  to  Yensie. 

The  maiden  grew  to  prize  the  evening  hours 
when,  with  her  mother  in  bed,  Alice  was  free  to 
converse  with  her.  Long  and  many  were  their 
talks  of  Yensie's  hopes  and  desires,  of  her  friend's 
assurance  of  God's  life-long  care  for  her  darling, 
and  occasionally  of  Walter  Wilde. 

One  night  Alice  betrayed  such  a  yearning  to  see 
him  again,  to  speak  to  him  her  forgiveness  and  in 
vite  him  to  Christ  that  Yensie  sent  him  a  little  let 
ter  directed  to  the  house  she  had  seen  him  enter. 

But  she  said  nothing  of  her  meeting  to  Alice. 

"  If  I  could  but  see  you  happy,  Alice,''  she  said 
one  night.  "  There,  don't  look  like  that.  You  are 
happy  I  know,  just  the  happiest  person  I  ever  saw. 
Yet  I  think  sometimes  if  all  the  old  wrong  could 
be  undone,  and  Walter  what  he  once  was,  and  you 
happy  in  that  way,  it  would  be  so  gratifying  to  me. 
I  don't  want  you  changed  a  bit,  and  all  you  are 
may  be  the  result  of  your  past  suffering,  but  I  don't 
like  the  way  it  was  brought  about.  I  would  choose 
another." 

"  'Blessed  is  he  whosoever  is  not  offended  in 
me,' "  quoted  Alice.  "  His  way  is  the  best  dar 
ling,  I  would  not  change  it  if  I  could.  I  love  his 
will  best,  I  trust  at  least.  '  Surely  goodness  and 
mercy  shall  follow  me,'  said  David.  They  have 


YENSIE   WALTON.  325 

been  mine,  are  still,  and  shall  be  evermore.  Leav 
ing  earth  I  shall  not  leave  the  goodness  and  mercy 
but  enter  into  their  experience.  Never  think  of 
me  as  lost,  darling.  Myself,  all  that  is  truest,  best 
self  will  still  be.  This  is  not  life  that  we  find  here, 
it  is  death — death  to  self,  death  to  ambition,  death 
to  sin ;  but  when  death  has  been  perfected  in  us 
and  we  become  fit  to  live,  he  calls  us  through  the 
portal  we  call  death  into  the  real  life  which  knows 
no  death.  I  do  not  die  my  darling.  My  eyes  and 
ears  grow  weary  of  earth's  pain  and  strife  and  so 
I  close  them  to  open  them  again  amid  angelic  cho 
ruses  and  heavenly  visions.  Don't  weep  for  me, 
nay,  rather  sing.  Let  us  learn  to  keep  harmony 
with  heaven  and  angels  ;  never  weep  because  a  child 
is  born  to  glory." 

"  No,  Alice,"  whispered  Yensie.  I  shall  not  need 
to  weep  for  you  but  for  myself,  so  lonely,  so  or 
phaned.  Who  will  take  your  place  ?  " 

"  '  My  God  shall  supply  all  your  need  according 
to  his  riches  in  glory  by  Christ  Jesus.'  If  you 
need  another,  Alice,  he  will  give  you  one ;  if  it  is 
better  for  you  to  walk  with  Jesus  only  he  will  not ; 
in  either  case  '  He  knows,'  best." 

One,  two,  three  weeks,  yet  no  reply  from  Yensie's 
note.  It  contained  but  these  few  words :  "  If  you 
would  see  Alice  Grey  again  on  earth  come  imme 
diately.  Y.  W."  Underneath  were  the  direc 
tions. 

The  still  Sabbath  evening,  the  fourth  since  Yen- 


326  YENSIE   WALTON. 

sie's  coming,  found  the  two  friends  in  the  little  sit 
ting-room  together. 

It  had  been  a  pleasant  day  but  was  a  little  damp 
at  night  and  they  remained  in  the  house. 

The  services  that  day  had  been  unusually  sooth 
ing  and  the  sweet  evening  quiet  settled  down  on 
them  with  much  the  same  effect. 

Alice's  frame  of  mind  was  as  calm  and  restful  as 
the  day  had  been,  and  as  she  sat  with  both  hands 
clasped  over  one  of  Yensie's,  her  face  upturned  to 
the  fading  skies,  the  37oung  girl  thought  she  had 
never  seen  anything  so  suggestive  of  heaven. 

They  sat  there  a  long  time,  Alice  forgetful  of 
everything  but  her  thoughts  ;  Yensie  fearful  of  dis 
turbing  her. 

"  Alice,  dear,"  she  whispered  at  length,  "  what 
are  you  thinking  about  ?  " 

"  My  Jesus,"  was  the  simple  reply. 

"  It  must  be  such  a  sweet,  peaceful  thought," 
continued  the  girl. 

"  It  is,"  was  the  rejoinder.  "  I  have  given  the 
last  to  him.  I  am  able  to  trust  Walter  to  him.  O 
my  darling,  he  is  infinite  in  tenderness,  overflow 
ing  with  love,  why  don't  we  trust  him  more  ? 
Here  my  poor  heart  has  been  yearning  over  that 
lost  soul,  forgetful  that  the  soul's  Creator  and 
Saviour  regarded  it  more  pitifully,  more  tenderly 
than  I.  Unconsciously  I  have  been  exalting  my 
self  above  the  Christ,  and  have  been  imploring  him 
to  do  that  which  he  loves  to  perform ;  that  for 


YENSIE   WALTON.  327 

which  he  anxiously  waits  the  opportunity.  He  has 
told  me  all  this  as  I  sat  here.  Do  you  know,  dar 
ling,  there  is  a  privilege  sweeter  even  than  talking 
to  Jesus,  and  that  is  hearing  him  talk.  I  fear  we 
do  all  the  talking  ourselves  and  go  away  after  ask 
ing  his  will,  without  knowing  it,  because  we  do  not 
wait  to  hear  it.  It  is  blessed  to  be  a  listener  at  his 
feet,  waiting  and  drinking  in  his  words  !  Mary's 
place,  and  he  said  she  had  chosen  a  good  part.  O 
Jesus,  at  thy  very  feet  soon,  beholding  thee  as  thou 
art !  How  can  I  bear  it  ?  Give  me  strength  !  Be 
still  O  heart,  into  thy  Maker's  presence  soon  to  be 
ushered,  no  wonder  thou  dost  throb  so  wildly !  " 

Yensie  was  awe-struck  as  she  gazed  into  her 
friend's  rapt  face.  With  tearful  eyes  she  fell  on 
her  knees  before  her  and  laying  her  head  in  her  lap 
wept  softly. 

The  touch  of  the  girlish  face  on  the  hands 
which  had  relaxed  their  grasp  on  earth,  brought 
Alice  Grey  back.  "  My  little  girl,  what  grieves 
you?" 

"  O  Alice,"  Yensie  gasped,  "  are  you  going  to 
leave  me  so  soon,  so  soon  ?  Are  you  very  ill  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  ill  at  all,  my  child,"  she  said,  ten 
derly.  "  I  am  feeling  much  better  to-day  only  a 
little  tired  now.  Come,  sit  beside  me  and  let  me 
put  my  arms  about  you.  There,  that  will  do. 
Now  do  not  weep,  that  grieves  me." 

Yensie  tried  to  smile  but  it  was  a  pitiful 
attempt.  "Alice,  I  want  to  tell  you  now,"  she 


328  YENSIE   WALTON. 

said,  "  I  met  Walter  in  New  York."  And  the 
young  girl  told  her  all. 

"  He  may  not  get  your  letter,  dear.  I  fear  I 
shall  not  see  him  here,  but,"  kissing  the  tear- 
stained  cheek,  "  you  will,  and  I  will  leave  a  mes 
sage  with  you  for  him.  Tell  him  I  forgive  all,  and 
Jesus  is  willing  to  forgive  and  save  him.  Tell 
him  Jesus  told  me  so  and  that  I  shall  look  for  him 
by  and  by  washed  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb." 

"  Is  that  all,  Alice  ?  " 

"  No,  darling,  give  him  the  little  box  that  con 
tains  his  picture  and  his  letters,  and,  O  Yensie, 
help  him  all  you  can  !  " 

A  little  after,  she  said,  as  if  speaking  to  herself 
"  God  never  fails,  neither  do  they  that  link  hands 
with  him." 

Soon  she  said :  "  Sing,  darling,"  and  ere  the 
evening  was  past,  Yensie  had  regained  her  usual 
cheerfulness. 

As  the  maiden  disrobed  herself  that  night, 
something  white  fluttered  to  the  floor.  Alice 
stooped  and  picked  it  up,  saying,  "May  I  look, 
dear?" 

"  O  yes,  I  took  it  out  of  my  trunk  this  morning 
on  purpose  to  show  you,"  replied  the  girl,  and 
Miss  Grey  gazed  on  Herbert  Gardenell's  pictured 
face. 

She  opened  her  arms  to  her  darling,  as  she 
questioned  how  she  became  possessed  of  it,  and 


YENSIE   WALTON.  329 

Yensie  told  the  simple  story  while  folded  to  that 
loving  breast. 

"  And  is  that  all,"  said  Alice  Grey. 

"All,  dear  Alice,"  was  the  reply.  And  Alice 
held  the  slight  figure  to  her  heart  as  she  whis 
pered  :  "  I  could  trust  you  to  him,"  kissing,  as  she 
spoke,  the  lips,  and  brow,  and  eyes  of  her  darling. 

How  tearfully  did  Yensie  recall  all  this  after 
wards.  That  long,  long  embrace,  that  careful 
survey  of  every  feature,  as  if  she  would  take  its 
impress  on  her  heart,  the  clinging  tenderness  of 
her  lips.  Then,  with  her  arms  still  about  the 
young  girl,  she  read  the  one  hundred  and  thirtieth 
psalm.  There  was  something  exultant  in  that 
voice,  but  very  peaceful ;  and  life-long,  Yensie  never 
forgot  the  prayer  that  followed. 

Long  after  Yensie  was  in  bed,  tucked  in  by  lov 
ing  hands,  which  lingered  fondly  over  her  shining 
tresses,  she  lay  and  watched  her  friend. 

Alice  was  very  slow  to-night  in  getting  un 
dressed.  She  lingered  at  the  glass,  taking  down 
her  hair ;  and  then  at  the  table  and  the  little  box 
of  which  she  had  spoken  to  Yensie.  Was  she, 
like  another  Elijah,  anxious  to  avoid  watching 
eyes,  and  meet  her  chariot  unseen,  save  by  the 
hosts  of  heaven  ? 

At  last  the  weary  eyes  of  youth  closed,  just  as 
Alice,  putting  out  the  light,  knelt  again  by  the 
snowy  bed.  Once  during  the  night  the  girl 
awoke,  she  felt  beside  her,  Alice  was  not  there. 


330  YENSIE   WALTON. 

The  moon,  streaming  into  the  room,  revealed  her 
yet  on  her  knees. 

"  I  have  not  been  asleep  long,"  thought  Yensie, 
and  dropped  off  again. 

The  early  sun  was  streaming  into  the  room 
when  next  she  woke,  and  with  mingled  astonish 
ment  and  fear,  she  saw  that  Alice  still  knelt  beside 
the  bed. 

No  pulse  however  feeble  responded  to  Yensie's 
trembling  touch.  Alice  Grey's  eyes  had  closed  to 
death  and  opened  unto  life. 

Ere  another  hour  had  passed  kind  hands  pre 
pared  the  body  for  the  grave.  An  old  woman — 
Aunt  Hepsey  they  called  her — volunteered  to  re 
main  for  a  few  days,  and  the  house  settled  down  to 
dreary  quiet. 

The  morning  wore  away — such  a  morning.  And 
soothed  at  last  by  Yensie's  hymns,  the  poor,  dazed 
mother  sank  to  sleep.  Back  and  forth,  back  and 
forth,  silently  yet  restlessly,  paced  the  girl  through 
the  room  which  but  yesternight  echoed  the  melody 
of  Alice  Grey's  voice. 

Dead  !  dead !  What  a  blank  followed  ?  What 
about  this  helpless  mother?  How  mysterious 
God's  dealings  to  leave  thus  this  wreck  of  life  and 
gather  the  perfected  roundness  of  that ! 

She  paused  before  the  window  sorrowfully,  and 
as  she  paused  Walter  Wilde  suddenly  turned  an 
angle  of  the  road  and  approached  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


"  All  may  be  heroes :  — 

'  The  man  who  rules  his  spirit,'  saith  the  voice 
Which  cannot  err  —  '  is  greater  than  the  man 
Who  takes  a  city.'     Hence  it  surely  follows, 
If  each  might  have  dominion  of  himself — 
Then  each  would  be  a  Prince,  a  Hero,  — greater, 
He  will  be  a  man  in  likeness  of  his  Maker!  " 

— MBS.  HALE. 


<  ENS  IE   met  the   man   at  the   door.       He 
looked  into  her  face  inquiringly.      "  Miss 
Grey,"  he  said. 
"  This  is  the  house.     Come  in,  Mr.  Wilde,"  she 
said  hastily,  and  he  followed  her  into  the  neat  sit 
ting-room. 

She  drew  a  chair  for  him,  but  he  seemed  not  to 
notice  but  stood,  his  head  nearly  touching  the  low 
ceiling,  a  look  of  nervous  anxiety  upon  his  face. 
331 


332  YENS1E   WALTON. 

"  Is  she  worse  ?  Is  she  very  sick  ? "  he  ques 
tioned  presently,  the  silence  oppressing  him. 

"  No,  O  no,  she  is  not  worse,"  replied  the  girl, 
gently.  Then  with  a  sudden  compassion  at 
what  the  news  awaiting  him  must  be  to  this  dark, 
stern  man,  who  had  sinned  so  sorely  against  the 
dead,  she  went  impulsively  to  his  side  and  looking 
up  to  his  eyes,  whispered :  "  Alice  has  got  beyond 
the  pain  and  grieving  forever,  and  rests  with 
God." 

A  look  of  blank  bewilderment  passed  over  the 
man's  face,  which  only  gave  way  to  one  of  piteous 
entreaty,  as  if  he  wished  her  to  speak  more  plainly. 

"  She  is  not  dead  ?  "  he  asked  huskily. 

"  No,  such  as  she  is  never  die ;  but  she  has  gone 
to  live  in  heaven." 

He  grasped  the  back  of  the  chair  convulsively, 
and  the  look  upon  his  face  was  indescribable.  Yen- 
sie  pushed  him  gently  towards  the  chair,  and  sink 
ing  into  it  he  covered  his  face  with  both  his  hands. 

There  were  no  tears,  no  words,  no  sobs,  he  sat 
like  some  statue  cut  in  stone  for  the  next  few  min 
utes. 

Yensie  did  not  know  what  to  do.  There  was 
something  in  this  silent  despair  which  made  her 
heart  ache.  Drawing  near  she  placed  her  hand  on 
his  arm.  He  did  not  seem  to  feel  it,  and  lifting  her 
eyes  she  asked  for  grace,  then  stooping  whispered, 
"Alice  left  with  me  a  message  for  you.  It  was 
nearly  the  last  she  ever  said." 


YENSIE  WALTON.  333 

He  lifted  his  head  immediately  and  looked  at  her, 
but  with  a  fixed,  stony  expression  that  frightened 
her.  Then  Yensie  told  him  of  that  last  night  to 
gether  in  that  very  room,  and  all  her  tender  words 
and  thoughts.  As  she  spoke  the  pathos  of  the  tale 
found  its  way  even  to  that  frozen  heart,  and  the 
maiden  marked  how  the  face  changed,  how  the 
eyes  grew  moist,  and  by  and  by  a  few  great  tears 
rolled  over  the  sallow  cheeks. 

As  she  ended  he  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  for 
his  handkerchief,  but  instead  of  it  he  drew  forth  one 
of  Alice's  little  cambric  messengers.  At  sight  of 
that  a  great  sob  rent  his  bosom  and  putting  it  to  his 
eyes  he  wept  convulsively. 

"  I  am  not  often  so  weak,  Miss,"  at  length  ho 
said,  "  but  this  has  unmanned  me." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Yensie  gently.  "  Say  rather  this 
is  restoring  to  you  your  lost  manhood." 

He  did  not  answer  her,  but  presently  said,  "  You 
loved  her  ?  " 

"  Better  than  all  the  world  beside,"  she  said,  bro 
kenly.  "  O,  earth  looks  very  dark  to-day  without 
her." 

" And  you  are  who ? "  he  asked.  "A  —  "  she 
thought  from  the  motion  of  his  lips  he  meant  to  say 
sister,  and  she  said,  "  She  only  had  one  sister." 

"  I  know,"  he  answered,  quickly,  and  with  a  look 
the  girl  thought  she  understood. 

"  My  name  is  Yensie  Walton.  Alice  called  me 
her  dear  child,"  she  continued,  and  he  lifted  his 


334  YENSIE   WALTON. 

face  suddenly  and  'scanned  her  features  as  he  had 
not  done  before. 

"  You  are  not,"  he  began,  then  added,  as  if  to 
himself —  "  No,  that  was  a  boy." 

Yensie  understood  him.  "  Your  little  boy  died 
years  ago,"  she  said.  "  We  shall  lay  Alice  close 
beside  him.  I  am  no  relation  of  Miss  Grey's.  My 
only  claim  on  her  affection  was  that  which  she  ac 
knowledged  as  most  powerful — I  was  poor,  and 
orphaned,  and  lonely,  and  desolate." 

The  man's  eyes  were  wandering  about  the  room. 
"  Her  mother,  is  she  dead  ?  "  he  inquired. 

"  No,  she  is  asleep.  This  shock  has  been  too 
much  for  her,"  was  the  reply. 

The  man  got  up  and  took  his  hat,  he  looked  about 
uneasily  and  said  something  of  going. 

"No,  no,"  Yensie  pleaded,  "do  not  go  to-day. 
Stay  by  these  holy  influences.  Remember  the  life 
and  death  of  one  who  loved  you  for  this  one  day. 
Perhaps  by  God's  grace  you  may  be  able  to  retrieve 
your  manhood." 

"  I  have  no  manhood,"  he  said,  despairingly ;  "  I 
have  no  manhood !  " 

"  Then  ask  God  to  create  for  you  another,"  she 
said,  earnestly. 

"Why  should  he?"  said  the  man,  self-reproach- 
fully.  "  How  dare  I  ask  him  to  ?  I  squandered, 
wasted,  lost,  that  he  gave  me  ;  why  should  he  trust 
me  again  ?  Ah,  no,  it  is  of  no  use.  I  sometimes 
doubt  if  there  is  a  God,  I  should  always  if  it  were 


YENSIE   WALTON.  335 

not  for  such  as  she  was.  It  is  useless  to  talk,"  he 
went  on,  seeing  the  girl  about  to  speak ;  "  you  do 
not  know  what  I  am.  If  you  did  you  would  be 
afraid  to  speak  to  me ;  afraid  to  be  alone  with  me 
one  moment." 

"  No,  I  should  not  be,"  said  Yensie,  hastily  ;  "  for 
whatever  you  have  been,  to-day  you  are  a  gentle 
man,  and  by  God's  grace  will  always  be  hereafter. 
Alice  prayed  for  you  and  she  never  prayed  in  vain. 
If  she  were  here  to-day  she  would  tell  you  that  Je 
sus  came  to  seek  and  to  save  those  who  were  lost." 

"  Yes,  the  lost  like  her  and  you,"  he  said,  ironi 
cally.  "  I  tell  you,  Miss  Walton,  God  would  be 
less  than  God,  did  he  refuse  to  take  her  to  heaven  ; 
but  I  —  I  have  spurned  my  mother's  prayers ;  tram 
pled  on  human  hearts  ;  and  struck  the  blow  which 
undermined  her  life.  My  God,  what  am  I  but  a 
murderer,  even  by  my  own  confession  ?  " 

"  You  are  indeed  lost,  Mr.  Wilde,"  said  Yensie, 
with  tears ;  "  but  not  so  lost  that  Jesus  cannot 
reach  you,  or  so  foul  that  His  blood  cannot 
cleanse." 

"  Do  you  know  to  whom  you  speak  ?  "  he  asked 
with  a  smile  which  was  horrible ;  "  did  she  tell  you 
how  I  wronged  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  girl,  "  I  know  it  all.  I  know 
had  she  been  other  than  a  child  of  God,  you 
would  have  wrecked  her.  But  every  blow  that 
strikes  a  Christian  soul  drives  it  nearer  God,  and 


836  FENSIE   WALTON. 

from  your  cruel  planting  she  harvested  a  store  of 
golden  grain." 

He  interrupted  her,  almost  fiercely.  "  What  do 
I  know  of  God's  children  ?  I  only  know  I  sinned 
against  the  most  spotless  woman  that  ever  trod 
this  earth ;  yet,  I  tell  you "  —  his  voice  lower 
ing,  his  eyes  gleaming  —  "I  tell  you  that  was  but 
one  chapter  of  a  life  whose  every  subsequent  page 
was  quite  as  foul.  How  thsn  dare  you  say  to  me 
hope,  pardon,  salvation  ?  I  tell  you,  there  is  none 
such  for  me." 

"  He  is  able  also  to  save  them  to  the  uttermost 
that  come  unto  God  by  Him,  seeing  he  ever  liveth 
to  make  intercession  for  them,"  was  all  Yensie 
dared  to  say  with  those  fierce  eyes  upon  her. 

He  stooped  to  pick  up  the  hat  he  had  dropped 
in  his  vehemence ;  she  turned  quickly  to  the  par 
lor  door  and  with  her  hand  upon  the  knob 
beckoned  him  to  follow  her. 

He  did  so  mechanically. 

Upon  the  large,  old-fashioned  mahogan}r  table, 
in  the  centre  of  the  room,  lay  all  that  remained  of 
Alice  Grey.  Yensie  drew  away  the  sheet  from 
the  quiet  face  with  its  smiling  lips,  and  for  the 
first  time  in  long,  long  years,  Walter  Wilde  gazed 
on  the  face  of  the  woman  he  had  injured.  The 
agony  of  his  face  was  unspeakable  ;  and  he  lifted 
his  eyes  beseechingly  to  the  face  of  his  companion. 

The  young  girl  understood  that  mute  request, 
and  going  out  softly  closed  the  door  and  left  him 


YENSIE  WALTON.  337 

with  the  dead.  She  went  to  the  chamber  door 
and  listened ;  Mrs.  Grey's  regular  breathing  told 
she  still  slept,  and  seating  herself  in  the  rocker, 
Yensie  prayed  for  the  stricken  man  who  stood 
above  the  form  of  her  dead  friend. 

After  what  seemed  to  Yensie  a  long,  long  time, 
she  arose,  and  opening  the  parlor  door  peeped  in. 
Walter  was  still  standing  as  she  had  left  him,  that 
look  of  unutterable  agony  upon  his  face. 

Softly  she  closed  the  door  and  flinging  herself 
upon  her  knees,  cried  unto  God,  that  at  this  hour 
the  Holy  Spirit  might  visit  that  soul,  revealing  to 
him  his  sins  and  his  Saviour ;  that  now,  so  early, 
Alice's  prayers  might  be  answered. 

Another  hour  dragged  by,  the  house  was  very 
still,  and  for  any  sound  of  life  that  came  from  the 
parlor,  one  might  have  judged  that  both  its  in 
mates  were  alike  dead. 

Presently  the  young  girl  rose  again  and  opened 
the  door.  He  had  changed  his  position  to  a  kneeling 
one,  that  was  all ;  the  two  hands  that  lay  on  the 
table  beside  the  dead,  supported  the  same  horror- 
stricken,  despairing  face  as  was  there  before. 

Yensie  advanced  into  the  room,  but  he  did  not 
hear  her ;  she  laid  one  hand  gently  on  his  arm,  say 
ing  :  "  Walter,  Walter,  poor  boy,  can  you  not 
trust  God?" 

He  lifted  his  eyes  at  the  tender  words  and  meet 
ing  her  look  of  sympathy  a  groan  burst  from  his 


338  YENSIE  WALTON. 

pale  lips,  the  first  sound  that  had  escaped  them 
since  first  he  gazed  on  the  face  of  the  dead. 

"  O  wretch,  wretch  that  I  am,"  he  moaned.  "  I 
am  such  a  sinner,  such  a  sinner." 

"  Thank  God,"  said  Yensie,  fervently.  Thank 
God  you  know  yourself  a  sinner.  He  came  to 
save  sinners." 

"  But  not  such  as  me,"  groaned  the  poor 
stricken  wretch.  "  No,  do  not  touch  me,"  he 
went  on.  "  I  feel  that  such  contact  would  sully 
an  imp  of  darkness.  O  God,  I  wish  I  too  were 
dead ! " 

Yensie  shuddered  at  the  fearful  wish. 

"  O  Walter,"  she  cried,  "  you  know  not  what 
you  say.  If  you  are  thus  overwhelmed  with  your 
guilt  in  the  presence  of  a  fellow  mortal,  how  dare 
you  think  of  meeting  the  righteousness  of  God ; 
Infinite  purity,  immaculate  whiteness  ?  If  Alice 
could  approach  it  only  while  hidden  in  Jesus,  how 
would  your  rude  vileness  dare  to  appear  in  its 
presence,  for,  '  our  God  is  a  consuming  fire  ?  ' ; 

It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  Walter  Wilde 
had  ever  even  conceived  God.  As  her  vivid  words, 
quickened  by  the  Spirit,  fell  on  his  ears,  he  shud 
dered  and  groaned  afresh. 

u  O  sin,  sin,"  he  cried,  "  my  soul  is  crimson  with 
the  blood  of  innocence!  There  is  no  hope  for 
me." 

"  'Though  your  sins  be  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be 


YENSIE   WALTON.  339 

as  white  as  snow  ;  though  they  be  red  like  crimson, 
they  $hall  be  as  wool,'  "  whispered  Yensie. 

He  shivered.  "  I  learned  that  at  my  mother's 
knee  when  I  was  pure,"  he  said. 

"  And  mother  and  Alice  wait  you  at  God's 
throne,"  she  whispered.  "Be  pure  again." 

"  But  my  sins,  my  sins,"  again  cried  the  wretch 
ed  man.  "  If  I  could  be  pure  from  this  moment 
what  of  my  past  ?  that,  that  alas,  is  irrevocable." 

"  But  not  irreparable,  thank  God,"  said  Yensie, 
tenderly.  "  Let  the  past  be  under  the  blood  and 
neither  man  nor  angel  can  read  it,  and  God  has 
promised  not  to  remember  it  against  us ;  yea  more, 
listen  to  what  Isaiah  says  :  '  Thou  hast  in  love  to  my 
soul  delivered  it  from  the  pit  of  corruption ;  for 
thou  hast  cast  all  my  sins  behind  thy  back.''  Give 
your  sins  to  Jesus,  Walter,  and  let  him  wash  your 
sins  away." 

"  God  bless  y«u,"  he  said,  brokenly ;  "  you  are 
like  her  and  would  hope  even  against  hope.  You 
do  not  know  the  terrible  appetites  I  have  fed,  which 
demon-like  have  been  knawing  at  my  vitals.  I 
should  have  to  be  a  new  man,  entirely  new." 

"  Yes,  that  is  it.  A  new  man  in  Christ  Jesus,'  " 
answered  the  girl.  "  O  Walter,  do  you  realize, 
that  terribly  as  you  have  sinned  against  others  and 
against  yourself,  you  have  sinned  yet  more  against 
God  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't  know  that  I  do,"  he  said.  I  don't 
know  what  I  realize,  only  my  soul  is  travelling 


340  YENSIE   WALTON. 

through  the  fires  of  hell,  the  fires  of  hell ;  and  the 
demon  of  remorse  is  piling  dark  remembrances  to 
feed  the  flames." 

Just  then,  Yensie  heard  a  peevish  call  from  the 
bed-room. 

"  I  must  go,"  she  said,  "  but  —  O  Walter,  pray 
to  God,  and  I  will  beseech  him  to  show  you  not 
only  yourself,  but  your  Saviour.  For  to  see  Him 
without  a  realizing  sense  of  self-helplessness,  self- 
sin,  is  to  neglect  him ;  and  to  see  self  fully  with 
out  seeing  Him  must  be  despair." 

The  girl  then  hastened  to  Mrs.  Grey;  washed 
her  face,  smoothed  her  curls,  and  prepared  her  a 
simple  meal.  Since  the  shock  of  her  daughter's 
death,  the  old  lady  seemed  to  have  lost  all  the  lit 
tle  strength  she  had  before ;  her  intellect  seemed 
hopelessly  shattered,  and  she  fell  into  utter  help 
lessness  and  childishness. 

Now  she  was  very  willing  to  be  led  to  the 
garden,  and  leaving  her  with  a  bright  boquet, 
Yensie  hastened  back  to  Walter. 

He  looked  up  now,  as  she  entered,  and  asked 
with  touching  simplicity  :  "  What  shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Give  yourself  unreservedly,  and  forever  to 
God,"  was  the  unhesitating  reply.  "  This  is  our 
dead,  Walter.  Both  you  and  I  are  losing  most  of 
earth  in  losing  her.  Now,  here  above  our  dead, 
let  us  covenant  to  meet  her  at  God's  throne  by 
and  by." 

She  stretched  her  hand  to  him  across  the  dead 


YENSIE  WALTON.  341 

as  she  spoke ,  he  hesitated,  as  if  weighing  her 
words,  then,  placing  his  hand  in  hers,  he  said, 
"  I  will,  God  helping  me." 

"  Let  us  pra}r,"  whispered  Yensie.  softly ;  and 
there  they  knelt,  one  on  either  side  of  the  dead. 
When  she  had  prayed  she  whispered :  "  Now  you 
pray,  Walter." 

"  I  know  no  prayer,"  he  said,  "  but,  '  God  be 
merciful  to  me,  a  sinner,'  and  He  knows  I  offer  it 
from  out  the  depths  of  my  poor,  wretched  heart." 

When  they  stood  up  again,  he  asked :  "  What 
next?" 

"  Just  what  God  bids.  We  will  have  no  will 
but  his  now,"  she  said.  "  And  yet,  I  think  that 
Alice  left  a  work  undone  for  you  to  finish." 

He  looked  up  eagerly. 

"  I  mean  her  mother,"  continued  the  girl.  "  She 
is  very  old  and  frail,  and  needs  some  arm  to  lean 
on." 

"  I  am  but  a  broken  reed,"  he  said ;  "  but  you  do 
not  know  her,  Miss  Walton.  She  would  not  ac 
cept  my  help.  She  will  drive  me  away  when  she 
knows  I  am  here,  just  as  she  drove  me  further  into 
sin  years  ago,  when  out  of  a  repentant  heart  I 
begged  her  but  to  let  me  see  Alice  one  moment, 
and  ask  her  forgiveness." 

He  spoke  bitterly  ;  but  Yensie  whispered :  "  '  For 
give  us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive  those  who  tres 
pass  against  us.'  You  will  put  that  behind  you. 


342  YENSIE   WALTON. 

She  is  different  now;  weak  and  childish,  and,  I 
think,  will  be  very  glad  to  have  you  with  her." 

"  But  what  can  I  do  ?  You  forget  I  am  totally 
wrecked,"  he  said,  sadly. 

"No,"  she  said,  smiling;  "but  I  remember  you 
are  but  newly  launched,  and  not  used  to  the  billows 
of  divine  grace  and  love.  He  will  help  you  now, 
always,  for  you  are  His,  having  given  yourself  to 
him." 

"  Let  me  tell  you,"  he  said,  still  sadly.  After 
Mrs.  Grey  turned  me  away,  I  grew  worse  and 
worse.  At  first  I  did  well  in  my  profession,  be 
came  known  and  largely  employed.  I  might  have 
amassed  a  fortune  ere  this,  had  I  worked  with  a 
purpose. 

"  I  married  after  a  while,  hoping  so  to  forget 
Alice.  Alas !  I  only  made  another  wretched,  and 
myself  doubly  so.  My  wife  and  the  child  she  bore 
me  died  within  a  month  of  each  other,  the  second 
year  of  my  marriage  ;  then  I  went  to  the  bad  fast. 
Every  year  found  me  more  reckless  and  shiftless, 
and  lately  I  have  lived  almost  entirely  on  the  re 
ceipts  of  former  years,  and  what  I  took  up  by 
helping  some  brainless  would-be,  that  I  might  have 
wherewith  to  gratify  my  taste  for  strong  drink.  I 
am  nothing,  have  nothing  but  sins  and  appetites." 

"  And  God's  grace,"  added  the  young  girl. 

"  Yes,  but  the  battle  will  be  hard.  The  enemy 
we  fight  is  relentless." 

"  And  the  Captain  of  our  salvation  all  victori- 


YENSIE   WALTON.  343 

cms,"  said  the  girl,  cheerily.  "  He  never  knows 
defeat.  With  a  less  powerful  leader  we  might 
fear,  with  Jesus,  never. 

'  To  doubt  would  be  disloyalty, 
To  falter  would  be  sin.'  " 

He  almost  smiled.  "  But  what  can  I  do  to  re 
trieve  myself,  to  support  Mrs.  Grey?"  he  ques 
tioned. 

"  He  knows.  Only  one  step  at  a  time,  Walter. 
The  Lord  will  provide.  Now  you  must  come  with 
me  and  get  something  to  eat." 

"  I  cannot  eat." 

"  Then  a  cup  of  coffee,"  she  urged,  and  he  fol 
lowed  her  without  a  word. 

"  There,"  she  said,  leading  him  to  the  kitchen, 
and  pouring  out  a  steaming  cup  of  coffee,  "  you 
must  drink  that ;  you  look  weak." 

"  I  am  weak,"  he  answered.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
been  wading  through  hell  this  last  hour — hell  upon 
earth." 

"  Which  is  so  much  better,"  she  said,  gently, 
"  than  an  eternity  of  torment  hereafter.  You  will 
find  water,  and  towels,  and  comb  there,"  pointing  to 
a  door;  "and  after  you  have  refreshed  yourself, 
come  and  meet  Mrs.  Grey  and  myself  in  the  gar 
den.  I  will  prepare  the  way  for  you." 

And  with  his  hand  still  on  the  cup,  he  watched 
her  as  she  flitted  down  the  garden  path,  repeating 


344  YENSIE   WALTON. 

tremulously  her  words :  "  So  much  better  than  an 
eternity  of  torment  hereafter." 

Yensie  found  the  old  lady  picking  a  bright-hued 
blossom  to  pieces,  while  she  whispered  to  herself. 

"  Mrs.  Grey,"  she  said,  abruptly,  as  she  seated 
herself  beside  her,  "  Mrs.  Grey,  Walter  Wilde  is 
here." 

"  Walter  Wilde  —  Walter  Wilde,"  repeated  the 
old  lady,  thoughtfully,  as  if  trying  to  recall  some 
thing.  Yensie  came  to  her  aid. 

"  Do  you  not  remember  a  young  man  of  that 
name,  who  was  acquainted  with  your  daughters? 
A  law  student,  I  think  he  was  then." 

"  Oh  yes,"  briskly  responded  her  companion. 
"  Why,  of  course,  Walter  Wilde.  I  am  beginning 
to  forget  everything.  Why,  he  was  the  husband 
of  my  Lois.  I  think  I  did  not  know  it  for  a  while 
though." 

Yensie  sighed.  The  old  lady's  mind  seemed  to 
tally  wrecked  since  yesterday.  "  Well,  Walter  is 
in  the  house  now.  Would  you  like  to  see  him  ?  " 
she  said. 

"  Like  to  see  my  Lois's  husband !  Certainly. 
Any  one  she  loved  is  dear  to  me.  Where  is  he? 
Why  did  you  not  bring  him  to  me  at  once  ?  " 

"You  forget  he  is  tired  and  travel- worn,  and 
needed  to  refresh  himself,"  said  Yensie,  soothingly. 
"  He  will  be  here  to  greet  you,  presently." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  forget  everything,"  replied  the  old 


YENSIE  WALTON.  345 

lady,  smiling ;  "  but  you  remember  what  is  becom 
ing  a  guest.  Is  he  lying  down  ?  " 

"  No,  I  left  him  about  to  partake  of  some  refresh 
ment  ;  and,  Mrs.  Grey,  please  do  not  speak  of  Lois 
to  him.  He  came  to  see  Alice,  and  is  sad  enough 
to  find  she  is  beyond  his  greeting.  It  will  but  give 
him  fresh  pain  to  bring  Lois  to  his  remembrance." 

"  To  be  sure.  You  are  very  considerate,  child. 
Yes,  I  will  try  to  remember,''  answered  the  lady. 
"  Of  course  he  will  not  wish  to  recall  his  loss. 
And  my  poor  Alice,  my  poor  Alice  ;  how  strange  to 
think  she  died  upon  her  knees !  " 

"  Her  life  and  death  were  alike  prayerful,'' 
replied  Yensie,  through  her  tears.  "  No  murmur, 
no*  strife,  no  moan,  the  end  of  life  accorded  well 
with  its  entirety.  I'm  glad  —  since  she  must 
go  —  'twas  thus." 

There  was  little  to  do  but  comfort  others  in  the 
days  between  the  death  and  funeral  of  Alice 
Grey.  After  the  burial  but  three  lingered  by  the 
grave.  It  was  a  sight  Yensie  never  forgot,  the 
handsome  yet  childish  old  lady,  leaning  on  the 
arm  of  the  dark-browed  man,  whose  cheeks  were 
furrowed  with  tears  as  he  bowed  above  the  graves 
of  his  infant  son  and  his  early  love. 

No  one  but  God  knew  of  the  hours  of  struggle 
he  passed  that  night,  or  how  he  wrestled  —  with 
knees  bent  on  the  very  spot,  where  Alice  met  her 


346  YENSIE  WALTON. 

angel  escort  —  wrestled  for  enough  of  grace  to 
live ;  for  just  one  ray  of  light  ahead. 

In  the  days  that  followed,  Yensie  and  he  held 
many  anxious  deliberations.  There  had  been  no 
trouble  about  bringing  Mrs.  Grey  to  accept  his 
support  and  care.  "  Who  should  care  for  me  if 
not  the  husband  of  my  Lois  ? "  she  said,  and  if 
his  heart  said  ought,  his  lips  were  shut  as  he  lis 
tened. 

But  Walter  felt  the  chances  small  to  earn  a  liv 
ing  there.  "  Why  not  go  to  the  city  ?  " 

"  It  would  not  do  to  uproot  Mrs.  Grey,"  Yensie 
answered  to  this.  "  She  will  not  be  here  long, 
Walter,  and  meanwhile  you  can  be  gaining 
strength  away  from  evil  associates.  Something 
will  surely  come.  Perhaps  you  can  get  a  chance  to 
copy,  or  take  care  of  a  garden,  anything  honest." 

But  this  was  very  distasteful  to  Walter. 

"  You  forget,  Miss  Walton,  that  I  have  been  an 
eminent  lawyer,"  he  said. 

"  And  an  eminent  sinner,"  she  answered.  "  No, 
I  have  not  forgotten.  Now  you  are  a  new  man, 
and  if  in  giving  you  new  hope,  God  calls  you  to  a 
humble  station  for  a  time,  you  will  show  the  sin 
cerity  of  your  love  by  unquestioning  obedience." 

"  But,  Miss  Walton,  I  am  not  a  new  man.  I 
have  no  such  experience  as  yours,  or  that  of  any 
other  Christian  of  which  I  have  heard.  I  want 
to  do  right ;  I  pray  for  light ;  I  have  set  my  sig 
nature  to  the  papers  which  make  me  His  slave 


YENSIE  WALTON.  347 

but  He  has  not  set  His  seal  thereto  yet,  ratifying 
the  bargain.  I  am  surrounded  by  thick  darkness 
which  I  cannot  pierce.  I  do  not  see  my  way." 

"  But  God  sees  it,"  she  said,  promptly,  "  and 
you  must  let  him  take  your  hand  and  lead  you. 
By  faith,  not  by  sight  or  feeling,  that  is  the  walk 
he  calls  you  to,  and  it  is  a  sign  of  his  great  favor. 
It  is  as  safe  with  God  at  night,  as  at  any  other 
time." 

"  Yes,  if  one  is  sure  He  is  with  him,"  he  said, 
sadly. 

"  Have  you  not  given  yourself  to  him  ?  "  she 
inquired. 

"  Over  and  over  again,  I  have  tried  to  do  so," 
was  the  reply. 

"  Walter,  if  you  had  given  me  a  gift,  you  would 
know  it.  Religion  is  sensible,  if  you  have  given 
God  your  heart  you  know  that,  and  when  you  do, 
he  does  accept,  or  break  his  word,  which  is  impos 
sible.  'If  we  confess  our  sins  he  is  faithful  and 
just  to  forgive  us  our  sins  and  to  cleanse  us  from 
all  unrighteousness  ! '  He  says  to  you,  '  Take  the 
water  of  life  freely,'  and  you  must,  as  you  would 
take  a  drink  of  tea  or  coffee  from  my  hand.  He 
says  too,  'Son,  give  me  thine  heart,'  and  that 
must  be  done  and  sensibly.  It  is  a  blessed  ex 
change,  a  sinful  heart  for  eternal  life." 

He  did  not  answer  her ;  but  again  that  night 
in  the  chamber  consecrated  evermore  by  the 


348  YENSIE   WALTON. 

prayerful  life  and  peaceful  death  of  Alice  Grey, 
he  offered  once  more,  his  heart  to  God. 

Time  was  hastening  away,  and  Yensie  would 
soon  be  obliged  to  return  to  school.  She  prayed 
earnestly  that  God  would  give  Walter  grace  now 
to  know,  to  realize  his  acceptance.  She  could  not 
go  away  and  leave  him  thus. 

One  day  she  went  to  see  the  good  old  minister 
whose  sermon  had  so  helped  Alice  Grey  the  last 
day  she  lived.  Did  you  ever  thank  God  for  min 
isters,  reader?  Are  they  not  the  receptacles  where 
grief,  and  care,  and  fear,  are  wont  to  hide  ?  The 
rivers  into  whose  bosoms  the  streams  and  rills  of 
human  woe  and  sorrow  empty  ?  God-given  escape- 
valves  ?  Well  might  the  great  apostle  say,  "  We — 
in  Christ's  stead." 

This  good  old  man  listened  to  that  part  of 
Walter's  story  she  felt  it  best  to  divulge,  and  was 
soon  enlisted  to  hunt  him  up  employment. 

"  Yes,  yes,  he  must  have  work,  if  we  have  to 
make  it  for  him,"  he  said.  "  You.  say  he  is  a  young 
man  of  ability?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  he  was  quite  eminent  once  in  his  pro 
fession,  but  he  is  not  very  young.  He  must  be 
forty." 

"  And  that  looks  aged  to  you,"  said  the  good 
man,  smiling;  "but  when  one  reaches  seventy, 
fort}'  still  looks  young." 

There  were  da}rs  when  Walter  was  very  restless ; 
when  old  appetites  were  clamorous  to  be  satisfied, 


YENSIE   WALTON.  349 

and  he  had  all  he  could  do  to  fight  them  down. 
Yensie  began  to  know  these  days,  and  in  one  way 
or  another,  now  by  a  cup  of  coffee,  now  by  some 
kindly  word,  helped  him  to  be  brave. 

One  day  she  saw  he  was  more  tried  than  usual. 
She  went  to  the  window  several  times  and  watched 
him,  as  with  such  restless,  hurried  tread  he  paced 
the  garden  paths. 

She  turned  to  the  kitchen ;  the  fire  was  out. 
She  feared  if  she  stopped  to  kindle  it  and  make 
coffee,  he  would  be  gone,  for  she  had  noticed  sev 
eral  times  his  longing,  questioning  glance  turned 
to  the  village. 

She  was  right.  But  even  as  his  trembling  hand 
sought  the  latch  of  the  garden  gate,  he  heard  her 
voice  calling,  and  with  hat  on,  book  under  her 
arm,  she  joined  him. 

"  May  I  walk  with  you?  "  she  said.  How  could 
he  refuse  her  ?  and  so  ere  long  he  found  himself 
sitting  on  a  rock  close  to  the  garden  bench,  where 
she  sat  sewing,  he  reading  to  her. 

He  could  not  tell  at  first  what  he  read.  She 
knew  his  thoughts  were  wandering,  but  it  kept  him 
there,  and  by  and  by,  after  she  remarked  several 
times  on  something  he  read,  he  grew  interested, 
and  re-read,  of  his  own  accord,  a  verse  of  poetry 
that  struck  him  forcibly,  commenting  on  its  sweet 
ness. 

Then  she  excused  herself,  and  going  to  the 
house,  soon  returned  with  a  pitcher  of  lemonade. 


350  YENSIE   WALTON. 

As  she  passed  him  the  glass,  he  read  in  her  face 
the  consciousness  of  his  struggle,  and  he  said,  fer 
vently,  "  God  bless  you  ;  if  ever  I  regain  manhood, 
I  shall  have  you  as  well  as  God  to  thank." 

A  few  days  after,  when  Walter  was  away,  the 
old  clerg3rman  called  to  tell  her  of  work  found. 
Some  old  documents  a  friend  desired  copied. 
When  they  were  done,  he  thought  there  would  be 
more.  When  Walter  came  home,  Yensie  told  him. 

He  did  not  say  a  word,  but  she  knew  there  was 
a  struggle  going  on  within  his  heart.  Passing  into 
his  chamber,  she  heard  him  pacing  up  and  down 
for  a  long  while  ;  presently  the  steps  ceased,  and 
then  she  prayed  that  God  would  meet  him  there — 
then — with  direct  assurance  of  his  sonship — prayed 
earnestly,  trustfully,  as  she  had  not  been  able  to  do 
before. 

He  did  not  come  out  until  summoned  to  supper, 
but  there  was  a  look  in  his  eyes  as  they  met  hers, 
then  quite  new.  Not  joy,  but  peace ;  and  after 
the  dear  old  lady  slept,  and  the  twilight  hour  was 
come,  she  asked  him,  quietly,  if  he  had  anything  to 
tell  her. 

"  Yes,  Yensie,"  he  said,  for  the  first  time  using 
that  name,  "  I  have  met  the  Lord.  I  understand 
your  precious  verse  now,  '  Peace  I  leave  with  you, 
my  peace  I  give  unto  you.'  He  has  given  it  to  me 
because  I  am  willing  to  take  it  as  a  gift,  an  unde 
served  favor.  You  can  go  back  to  school,  I  think, 
without  a  fear.  I  will  go  this  very  night  and  ac- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  351 

cept  the  copying ;  anything  for  Jesus.  Yensie,  if 
we  never  meet  again  here,  you  and  I  will  meet 
Alice  there.  I  am  so  sure.  This  is  so  sweet,  so 
very  sweet.  I  never  knew  before  what  it  meant 
to  be  a  Christian.  Now  I  am  one  myself,  thank 
God."  And  Yensie  wept  tears  of  joy. 

He  went,  as  he  said,  and  accepted  the  copying, 
and  from  her  chamber  Yensie  heard  him  that  night 
singing  softly  to  himself  as  he  locked  the  house  and 
prepared  for  bed. 

Was  it  his  mother's  hymn,  or  Alice  Grey's,  or 
that  of  all  the  blood-washed  throng  the  years 
adown?  "  There  is  a  fountain  filled  with  blood." 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


"  He  drew  me  and  I  followed  on 
Charmed  to  confess  the  voice  divine." 

—  Hymn. 


,ENSIE  never  knew  how  desolate,  how 
dreary  the  cottage  appeared  to  Walter 
Wilde  after  she  left  it,  or  with  what  a  sad 
weight  upon  his  heart  he  again  took  up  his  work. 
Her  light  step,  and  cheery  voice,  and  encouraging 
words  were  all  missed,  and  not  alone  by  him. 
Mrs.  Grey  was  bitter  in  her  complainings,  and  the 
old  domestic,  who  had  been  persuaded  to  remain, 
declared  herself  homesick.  But  Walter  listened 
patiently  to  his  mother-in  law's  grievances,  and 
tried  to  fill  Yensie's  place,  so  forgetting  his  own 

loss. 

852 


YENSIE   WALTON".  353 

It  was  a  hard  discipline  for  him,  but  a  necessary 
and  blessed  one,  this  being  bound  to  that  old 
querulous  life.  And  in  the  few  months  between 
his  conversion  and  her  death,  his  experience  had 
abundant  trial.  Through  added  kindness  to  her 
he  strove  to  atone  for  the  pain  he  had  brought 
Alice,  and  when  she  was  gone  and  he  free  to  again 
enter  the  world,  he  was  better  fitted  to  meet  life's 
temptations  because  of  the  patient  endurance 
gained  in  those  hours  of  dreary  watching. 

As  for  Yensie,  she  began  her  new  school  year 
with  great  depression  of  spirits.  Removed  from 
the  necessity  of  exerting  herself  to  help  others 
her  loss  weighed  heavily  upon  her,  and  Madame 
became  alarmed  at  her  increasing  pallor  and 
fatigue. 

She  urged  Yensie  to  give  up  this  year's  study, 
and  rest.  "  I  dread  to  part  with  you,  but  I  fear  to 
have  you  study  while  you  appear  so  ill." 

But  Yensie  was  determined  to  remain,  so 
Madame  wrote  to  her  uncle  and  she  received  a 
summons  home.  There,  she  soon  resumed  her  old 
spirits,  and  Jessie  perceived  this  through  her 
letters. 

"  You  have  brought  me  into  a  terrible  fix," 
wrote  Miss  Crafton.  "  You  know  I  only  at 
tempted  this  year's  course  to  be  near  you.  Alas, 
behold  now  niy  forlorn  condition.  I  have  tried  to 
lose  my  appetite,  or  induce  pallor,  in  vain.  I  took 
a  whole  box  of  Ayer's  pills  ;  roses  still  bloomed  as 


354  YENSIE   WALTON. 

if  to  mock  me.  I  shall  reward  jou,  however,  by 
spending  Christmas  at  Valley  Farm,  and  getting 
acquainted  with  the  beau  who  has  so  soon  revived 
your  flagging  spirits. 

"  Until  death  and  after,  your 

"  JESS." 

Yensie  had  not  been  long  home  ere  she  heard 
much  talk  about  an  expected  visitor.  "  It  is  my 
big  brother  George,"  said  Fred,  mysteriously. 
"  He  will  be  here  for  Thanksgiving." 

Beyond  this  Fred  would  not  go,  but  laughed  at 
all  her  questioning.  She  appealed  to  Uncle  John 
and  was  satisfied. 

"  George,  why,'  he's  my  adopted  son.  Of  course 
you  never  heard  of  him.  You  see,  Sally  and  I 
were  married  a  good  many  years  before  we  had  a 
child,  and  as  I  hankered  after  them  I  took  little 
George  from  an  orphan  asylum ;  had  rale  papers 
made  out  and  signed.  I  took  to  him  awful,  but 
your  aunt  never  did.  He  was  rather  high-strung 
and  we  had  much  the  times  as  when  you  and  she 
got  fiery.  He  was  quite  a  big  lad  and  no  little 
help  when  he  ran  away.  I  didn't  make  much  fuss 
to  find  him,  I  thought  he'd  be  happier  away  from 
Sally,  and  we  never  heard  from  him  until  two 
months  ago.  Then  we  got  a  letter.  He  said  he 
was  hearty,  and  anxious  to  see  his  old  father,  the 
Lord  bless  him,"  and  Mr.  Walton  wiped  his  eyes. 

"  He  sent  a  message  to'  mother,  too.     He  said 


YENSIE  WALTON.  355 

since  he  had  got  religion,  he  made  no  doubt  he 
had  been  a  bud  boy,  and  tried  her  patience  a  lot 
(but  that's  not  true,  not  a  word  of  it).  Hows'ever, 
he  asked  forgiveness,  and  said  he  would  be  here  to 
eat  Thanksgiving  dinner  with  us." 

Certainly  Aunt  Sarah  seemed  determined  to 
prepare  such  a  dinner  as  was  never  seen  at  Valley 
Farm  before.  Everybody  was  busy,  even  to  Fred, 
who  stoned  raisins,  and  picked  currants  and 
berries,  and  whistled  outrageously. 

The  afternoon  before  Thanksgiving  came,  and 
all  Valley  Farm  awaited  company,  from  Aunt  Sarah 
in  her  big  figured  delaine  with  a  purple  ground, 
and  stiffly  starched  checked  apron,  to  the  cat  that 
lay  purring  upon  the  best  rug  in  the  parlor. 

Said  parlor,  Mildred  and  Yensie  had  made  sun 
dry  attempts  to  have  look  cheerful  and  home-like, 
as  if  sometimes  used.  But  every  chair  they  set  at 
angles  Aunt  Sarah's  careful  hand  straightened; 
and  the  books  they  so  generously  scattered  about, 
were  all  piled  up  again,  while  the  good  woman 
wondered,  "  what  on  airth  them  gals  meant  by 
settin'  things  all  askew." 

Milly  looked  gay  and  pretty  in  her  blue  dress 
and  while  muslin  apron,  ruffled  by  Yensie,  espe 
cially  for  this  occasion ;  and  our  friend  found  her 
self  arranging  her  hair  with  particular  care,  and 
adding  a  gay  bit  of  ribbon  to  light  the  sombreness 
of  her  dress. 

Fred  grew  very  impatient  as  the  afternoon  passed, 


356  YENSIE  WALTON. 

and  went  back  and  forth  between  the  house  and 
gate,  as  if  his  activity  might  increase  that  of  the 
grey  horses  which  headed  the  village  coach. 

By  and  by,  Uncle  John  announced  the  coach  as 
nearing,  and,  O  joy,  it  stopped  before  the  gate,  and 
a  dark  whiskered  man  stepped  out. 

There  was  a  general  springing  forward  to  the 
door ;  and  Yensie,  who  stood  back,  saw  the  ruddy 
faced  man  grasp  her  uncle's  hand,  while  he  said : 
"  God  bless  you,  father,"  in  a  husky  voice.  Then 
Aunt  Sarah  was  greeted  with  a  hearty  kiss ; 
Milly  with  another,  and  Fred  swung  up  to  the 
strong  shoulder,  crutch  and  all. 

"  What !  here  is  another  little  sister,  I  declare," 
said  the  hearty  voice,  and  another  moment  he 
had  Yensie's  hand  in  his,  and  his  bearded  lips  to 
hers. 

"I  thought  you  had  only  one  daughter,  from 
your  letter,  father." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  most  folks  think  that's  all  I 
have,"  answered  Mr.  Walton,  "but  I  see  no  dif 
ference  in  my  love  for  the  two.  She's  an  adopted 
daughter,  George."  And  George  said,  still  hold 
ing  the  hand  he  had  taken : 

"  Then  I  suppose  I  ought  to  love  her  best,  see 
ing  we  are  alike  in  this  respect.  I  wonder," 
stooping  that  only  she  might  hear,  whether  this 
little  girl  was  ever  adopted  into  the  family  of 
God?" 
"'Her  bright,  quick  glance  told  him  as  much  as 


YENSIE   WALTON.  357 

her  words.  "  I  trust  so,"  and  he  added,  fervenfly, 
"  Thank  God." 

After  supper  that  night,  George  had  a  long  story 
to  tell  of  his  life  and  fortunes,  and  few  have  more 
interested  listeners. 

Mr.  Walton  wiped  his  eyes  repeatedly  on  his  red 
handkerchief,  as  the  young  man  related  his  first 
weary  search  for  labor,  hungry  and  almost  dis 
heartened  ;  of  his  landing  in  the  far  West  after  a 
long  voyage,  and  being  employed,  finally,  by  a 
small  farmer  in  Michigan.  As  he  told  how,  by  dil 
igence,  he  added  to  his  master's  farm  and  fortune, 
and  made  himself  a  necessity,  good  old  Uncle  John 
broke  out  repeatedly  with  his  hearty,  "  That's 
right,  now."  "  Just  like  ye."  "  Always  was  a 
good  boy."  "  Knowed  you'd  come  right  end  up." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  continued  George,  "  to  make 
a  long  story  short,  I  married  Mary ;  she  was  the 
old  man's  daughter.  It  came  kind  of  natural  like 
that  I  should ;  she  was  always  good  and  kind  to 
me,  and  I  never  thought  she  had  an  equal ;  kind 
and  gentle  like  she  was. 

"  When  the  old  man  died  he  left  us  the  farm — 
and  it  was  a  farm  by  that  time  ;  but  Mary  didn't 
stay  long  to  enjoy  it.  After  our  little  girl  was 
born,  she  kind  of  drooped  like,  and  nothing  seemed 
to  do  her  good,  and  by  and  by  she  died." 

Here  George  stopped  a  moment  and  wiped  his 
eyes. 

"I  suppose  it  was  the  Lord  calling  after  me. 


358  YENSIE   WALTON. 

The  young  parson  said  it  was,  but  I  didn't  need, 
somehow,  only  I  felt  awful  lonesome,  and  hung  on 
to  the  little  one  as  if  she'd  kind  of  make  up  for  it. 
But  before  long  she  pined  and  sickened  just  like 
her  mother,  and  I  was  left  alone. 

"  Well,  that  didn't  bring  me.  I  knew  I  wasn't 
ready  to  follow  them,  and  got  kinder  oneasy,  but 
it  wore  off  after  awhile,  and  I  don't  know  as  I'd 
a  been  a  Christian  to  this  day  if  it  hadn't  been  for 
young  Parson  Gardenell;  somehow  he  brought 
things  home  as  others  couldn't." 

Yensie  felt  her  heart  leap  as  George  spoke  that 
familiar  name.  Pier  uncle  looked  towards  her  in 
quiringly. 

"  That  couldn't  be  our  young  minister,  could  it, 
Yensie  ?  "  he  questioned. 

B.ut  before  Yensie  could  answer,  George  burst 
out  with,  "  Now,  I'm  hit  exactly.  Yensie,  you  call 
her?  Why,  yes,  that's  what  he  called  her.  Kind 
of  stupid  in  me  not  to  remember.  He  spoke  about 
your  other  girl  here,  but  said  she  was  a  niece. 
Herbert  Gardenell,  that's  his  name,  and  he's  the 
same  that  was  here  when  Violet  died." 

All  looked  surprised  at  this  mention  of  Violet, 
and  the  added  color  of  Yensie's  cheek,  and  the 
eagerness  of  Uncle  John's  face,  showed  that  the 
appearance  of  the  young  minister  had  added  inter 
est  to  the  tale,  for  at  least  two  of  the  listeners. 

"  You  see  it  was  this  way,"  said  George,  explain 
ing.  "  I  never  was  over  fond  of  ministers,  or  such 


YENSIE   WALTON.  359 

like ;  but  there  was  so  much  talk  about  this  fellow 
that  I  went  to  hear  him  preach,  part  out  of  curi 
osity,  part  to  please  an  old  chum,  who  had  stood 
by  me  through  thick  and  thin. 

"  He's  a  big  fellow,  this  Gardenell,"  here  Uncle 
John  nodded  an  affirmative.  "I  kind  of  liked 
that,  and  then  he  seemed  to  know  what  he  talked 
about.  I  always  did  like  a  fellow  who  knew  how 
to  handle  himself,  and  looked  of  a  size  to  make 
folks  believe  him,  whether  they  would  or  not." 
Yensie,  at  whom  he  was  looking  just  now,  had  all 
she  could  do  to  keep  from  laughing  at  this  novel 
way  of  enforcing  truth;  but  George  answered 
the  merry  twinkle  of  her  eye  with  a  smile,  and 
went  on. 

"  Somehow,  I  felt  this  young  parson  was  more 
than  a  match  in  most  ways  for  any  of  us  —  hadn't 
done  as  much  swearing,  likely  —  and  when  I  heard 
some  low  kind  of  chaps  talking  about  shutting  his 
mouth,  or  some  such,  I  just  let  them  know  that  I'd 
help  him  settle  accounts  with  any  of  them ;  but 
they  didn't  try  it.  He  had  a  new  way  of  settling, 
unknown  to  me. 

"  I  never  quite  understood  what  it  was  about 
that  young  man,  but  he  took  the  roughest  of  them 
right  off  their  feet ;  and  one  night  he  had  half  the 
congregation  up  for  prayers  at  once. 

"  I  never  knew  what  took  me  there  so  often.  I 
declare  I  couldn't  help  it.  I  used  to  go  home 
every  night,  saying,  '  that's  my  last  of  meetin' ; 


360  YENSIE   WALTON. 

he's  not  going  to  fetch  me  on  my  knees  like  old 
Bob  Rankins.  I  ain't  no  such  miserable  trash.  I 
suppose  it's  all  well  enough  for  such.  But  the 
thought  would  come,  the  young  parson  himself 
thought  he  needed  it,  and  there's  no  trash  about 
him ;  and  there  wasn't  either.  I  felt  like  taking 
iny  hat  off  to  his  shadow,  so  I  did ;  and  I  wasn't 
the  only  one.  Fact,  shiny  eyes,"  this  to  Yensie, 
whose  eyes  were  shining  with  joy. 

"  I  declare  to  you,"  continued  George,  "  that 
smile  of  his  used  to  make  me  think  of  my  mother, 
if  I  ever  had  one,  and  I  expect  I  had  way  back 
somewhere.  It's  certain  I  never  see  one  sort  of  a 
smile  without  being  homesick  for  her,  and  his  was 
just  such  ;  and  yet  there  wasn't  any  soft  or  woman 
about  him,  anyway ;  not  a  bit  of  it. 

"  Well,  I  held  on  awful  long,  as  it  seems  to  me 
now,  but  a  kind  of  stubbornness  had  taken  hold  on 
me.  I  heard  the  young  parson  say,  the  first  night 
in  his  prayer,  that  he  didn't  want  to  leave  the  vil 
lage  until  every  soul  that  intended  to  have  a  share 
in  the  New  Jerusalem  had  made  sure  of  their  pos 
sessions.  I  thought  then,  here's  one  tljat,  isu'jt 
going  to  hurry  himself  J^r,, you;  but  I;  began  to 
hanker  to,  after  all. 

,  "^Vhen.he'4  tell,«f  the  blessed  home,  and  the 
tender  welcome^.and  the  loving  Saviour  ;  and  him 
self  J.uipt  as  like  ^.alj,  #s  could  .  be  this  side  the 
river,  I'd  kind  of  long  for  it.  Then,  too,  one  old 
comrade  after  another  got  religion  and  went  over 


YENSIE   WALTON.  361 

on  the  other  side  ;  and  I  got  lonesome  like  and 
jealous,  and  kind  of  concluded  that  if  I  would  go 
to  hell  I  must  go  alone. 

"  And  then,  I  sort  of  thought  God  was  to  blame 
—partial  like ;  for  he  had  made  the  others  all  over 
given  them  the  new  birth  (you  see  I  didn't  know 
what  that  was  then,  only  I  saw  they  were  as  dif 
ferent  from  what  they  used  to  be  as  black  from 
white)  when  some  of  them  had  been  regular  ras 
cals,  and  had  passed  by  a  good,  honest  fellow  like 
myself.  Quite  capable,  too ;  and  do  you  know, 
for  awhile  I  made  myself  believe  God  had  got  the 
worst  of  it. 

"  But  Gardenell  rooted  all  that  out  of  me  by  a 
sermon  he  preached  one  night,  on  '  The  publican 
and  the  harlots  go  into  the  kingdom  of  God  before 
you.'  Wasn't  I  cut  up,  though  ?  I  made  sure  he 

J  Jr»          .  o  :    .   , 

had  read  my  thoughts  ;  I  hadn't  a  leg  to  stand  on, 

.     )  Jim      V  I'mF.  •..  ,  ,.       •        nui,i£oJ 

but  1  crawled  out  ot  that  meetm     somehow.     1 

harlots.     If  I 


very  next  night  the  parson  had  tor  Ins 

text, "'  There  is  no  other  name  under  heaven.'     No, 
.       3JJJ  <!_.   .   '\S;LL    ;J7-'<   )    ,-b >         .         'jUl~,J,Jj.iJl 
thought  I,  but  there  ought  to  oe  a  different  way 

~    flJn  J7     jitJ .  ill  ,  T-.     ,     ,  ' i'^\    j-*U-i          ,     - 

ior  respectable  people.      But  he  settled  ,that  too. 

DILC      .  .  -,  ,  '      r         -      J.T    '         ;  ^    ,1  '  :    j.''      ..t;  l 

'  Jesus  said,    { I  am  the  way,  and  the  truth,  and 
,,    -?J^"K',    ;Ji  T  ,  T  '.'oj  .'ir,'j  ^i1''1^  -1-     ^jM1!^ 

the  life,  said  he,  and  again,  'I, am  the  door  or  the 

sneep.'    ''He  that  entereth'not  oy  "the  door,  into 

,     .fj-i    v   «jiri  A.     ,      ..    ,    ,.     •  ,, 

the  sheep-fold,  but  climbeth  up  some  other  way, 

the   same    is  a   thief   and   a    robber.'     Then    hb 


362  YENSIE   WALTON. 

described  the  sneaking  robber,  who  enters  the 
house  at  night  by  the  window,  and  I  began  to  feel 
mean.  Just  then  he  called  out  at  the  top  of  his 
voice  :  "  Are  you  here,  respectable  sinner  ?  Are 
you  here,  boasting  of  your  honesty  to  your  fellows 
and  trying  to  cheat  heaven,  too  good  to  walk  in  at 
the  door  of  the  kingdom,  but  willing  to  steal  in 
some  other  way  ? '  I  began  to  tremble  then ;  I 
made  sure  he'd  call  my  name  next ;  but  he  didn't. 

"  But  by  and  by  when  he  had  cooled  off  more, 
he  told  us  that  every  man  had  a  right  to  say  how 
his  neighbor  should  enter  his  house ;  and  if  they 
were  not  willing  to  comply  with  his  demands  they 
should  stay  away.  It  always  looked  suspicious  to 
see  a  man  half  way  up  a  house,  towards  the  win 
dow  even  in  daylight,  but  if  it  was  night  and 
nobody  around  it  looked  worse.  I  knew  that  was 
me  going  into  the  kingdom  a  new  way  and  with 
out  telling  anyone. 

"  It  looked  kind  of  sensible  like  too,  that  God 
should  have  a  right  to  do  and  say  about  his  own 
kingdom  as  much  as  I'd  like  to  about  my  house, 
and  there  was  only  one  of  two  things  left  for  me  ; 
I  must  stay  away  altogether,  or  take  the  old  road. 

"  That  night  I  took  down  Mary's  Bible  and 
found  the  verse  he  had  quoted  in  the  tenth  of 
John.  Yes,  Jesus  said  it,  I  saw  that  in  black  and 
white  ;  I  didn't  sleep  any  too  much  that  night. 

"  Well,  I  kept  away  from  the  meetin'  a^vhile 
after  that,  but  one  night  I  got  kind  of  restless. 


YENSIE  WALTON.  363 

The  house  was  uncommon  lonesome,  my  old 
chums  hud  most  of  them  been  converted  and,  by 
and  by,  I  thought  I'd  just  like  to  see  how  Gard- 
enell  handled  it  for  others  ;  (seemed  to  me  he  had 
settled  my  case  for  me)  and  I  did  kind  of  wonder 
if  he  hadn't  about  played  out  most  of  the  tunes 
worth  much.  I  didn't  know  much  about  the 
Bible  then ;  I  find  its  strings  ain't  so  easily  num 
bered. 

"  The  parson  had  been  working  hard  then  for  a 
month  and  I'd  a  thought  he'd  got  tired.  But  he 
was  fresh  every  night ;  seemed  to  relish  preach 
ing  —  took  to  it  like  a  fish  to  water.  I  was  late 
that  night  and  he  had  begun  to  preach. 

"  He  was  just  telling  a  story,  as  I  went  in  about 
a  little  dying  one.  1  shall  never  forget  it.  It  just 
seemed  to  me  I  could  see  the  blue  eyes  looking 
into  his  face,  and  hear  the  young  girl  sing,  and 
catch  sight  of  the  angels  waiting  for  her  while  she 
told  him  to  tell  the  children  that  they  need  not 
wait  to  grow  big,  Jesus  loved  them  now;  he  had 
saved  her. 

"  It  was  just  like  poetry  or  a  picture,  every  bit 
of  it,  and  when  the  story  was  ended  he  began  to 
sing. 

"  I  clinched  my  hat  and  rushed  out.  I  made 
sure  I  should  die  if  I  didn't  get  out  or  go  to  that 
altar.  I  was  dreadful  broken  up.  It  made  me 
think  of  my  own  little  babe. 

k'  All  the  way  to  the  school-house  that  night  I'd 


364  YENSIE  WALTON. 

been  saying  to  myself  :  '  It's  no  use,  George,  you'd 
better  give  it  up.  God  doesn't  want  any  starched 
up  sinners;  you're  worse  than  Bob,  by  a  good 
deal,  for  though  he  was  a  miserable  old  sinner,  he 
owned  up  to  it  honest  —  might  as  well  be  honest 
with  God  anyway.  There's  a  little  of  the  man 
about  old  Bob  ;  but  you,  George  Rogers,  you've 
been  picking  up  all  the  old  straw  and  rotten  bits 
of  wood  this  month  past  to  build  a  ladder  that 
wouldn't  half  hold  your  self-righteous  weight  any 
how,  just  to  make  a  robber  of  yourself,  and  climb 
into  the  sheep-fold  some  other  way.  You've  been 
trying  to  cheat  God  and  have  cheated  yourself. 
There's  no  salvation  for  you  ;  God  don't  need 
such,  and  wouldn't  stoop  to  save  you.' 

"But  when  I  went  into  the  meetin'  and  heard 
that  story,  it  seemed  as  if  it  was  meant  for  me. 
It  was  for  children,  I  know  ;  but.  bless  y$u,  I  never 
sawa;babe  as  small  as  I  felt  th%t,nighfc;  ,a.pmt$Q.t 
would  have  held  me. 

JKJ"  Well,  I  was  wretched.  I  went,  home,  that 
night,  saying,  'it's  no  use;'  but  every  ,t^mq,  ^ 
think  I  could  hear  little  Violet  saying,  'He'll  .save 


"  I  bought  a  cigar  as  I  went  home,  and  thought 
J//JL  smpke  i^  off,  ,bujt  that  was  the  kind  of  convic 
tion  that  can't  be  smoked  put.  The  longer  I 
smoked  the  worse  .  I  .  felt,  and  I  threw  a  way.  my 
cigar  at  last,  and  cried  out  on  my  knees,  '  If  you'll 
only  show  your  face,  Lord,  only  one  gleam  of  light, 


YENSIE  WAI/TON.  865 

I'll  thank  you,  though  I  go  to  hell  where  I  belong ; 
but  it  was  dark  as  pitch,  and  only  that  little 
golden-haired  baby  shed  one  ray  of  sunlight,  and 
that  I  was  afraid  to  stand  under. 

"  I  told  the  Lord  at  last  I'd  never  smoke  again ; 
never  take  the  best  of  any  body  in  a  bargain ; 
never  count  myself  anything  but  a  sinner ;  if  he'd 
only  forgive  me  my  sins.  Still  no  light. 

"  The  great  drops  of  sweat  began  to  fall,  and  I 
told  him  I'd  sell  the  farm  and  give  it  to  the  poor, 
or  work  it  and  let  old  Widow  Ryder  and  such  as 
her  have  all  it  brought  in  but  my  living  ;  but  still 
no  use.  You  see  I  didn't  understand. 

"  At  last  I  grew  desperate  like,  and  off  I  started 
to  rout  up  the  young  minister.  It  was  after  twelve 
o'clock,  and  he  was  in  bed ;  but  he  let  me  in,  and 
struck  a  light,  so  cheerful  like,  and  then  sat  down 
and  took  my  hand  as  if  I  was  his  brother. 

"  I  made  a  clean  breast  of  it,  I  assure  you,  and 
when  I  got  through  I  found  the  parson's  face  was 
wet  with  tears. 
,.,,',"  It  was  the  same  old  tempter,  Rogers,  in  a  dif- 

J  j  J  4J  ^  •*  *-J 

feijent  guise,'  h^sai^'tHe  same   old  wily  fellow. 

You  qouldiLt  steal  religion,  so  he  told  you  to  buy 

Ttjmni,rj  jjurn^  °  Ofrs          .ii;jj°2 

it ;  that  is  equally  impossible.     It  was  bought  on 

Calvary  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  and  you,  and 
I,  and  even-  sinful  child  of  man  must  take  it  as  a 

free  gift.'     And  there  we  sat  and  talked  till  mbrn- 

ii  ' 

ing  brojio. 

"  '  Oh,  how  God  must  love  you,'  he  said,  when  I 


366  YENSIE  WALTON. 

was  telling  about  the  sermons,  and  how  they  hit. 
'  Can't  you  see  how  Infinite  love  was  using  every 
means  to  draw  you  ?  First  the  mother,  then  the 
babe,  then  a  mouth  with  his  message,  and  all 
boundless  love  !  Oh,  you  can't  doubt  after  all  this. 
You  must  believe  he  will  and  does  receive  you.' 

"  Then  it  all  came  over  me,  that  the  dear  Lord 
loved  me,  and  I  said,  '  I'll  never  doubt  Him  again, 
Parson.'  And  we  got  down  on  our  knees,  and  he 
thanked  God  in  such  a  hearty  way,  as  if  He  had 
done  him  a  favor  in  saving  me. 

"  Afterwards  I  asked  him  how  he  came  to  know 
just  how  to  hit  me,  and  he  said,  '  I  didn't  know 
a  word  about  it  Rogers,  but  the  Holy  Spirit  did, 
and  he  led  and  directed  me.  I  was  only  an  instru 
ment.' 

"  I  was  puzzled  at  his  answer,  but  I  thought  I 
had  it  at  last,  and  said,  '  I  was  a  hard  case,  and  so 
you  had  special  orders ;  is  that  it,  captain  ? ' 

"  He  smiled,  but  said,  '  There  are  no  hard  cases 
with  God.  A  sinner  is  but  a  sinner ;  it  is  sin,  not 
sins,  God  counts.  If  you  stole  a  penny,  Rogers, 
you  would  be  a  thief  as  surely  as  if  you.  stole  a 
million  pounds.  Men  might  make  a  difference,  but 
God,  none.  The  heart  in  both  cases  would  be  the 
same  ;  —  a  covetous  heart  desiring  another's  goods. 
So  any  man,  no  matter  how  great  a  sinner  he  is, 
can  be  saved.  It  takes  no  more,  no  less,  to  save 
him.  To  bring  only  you  to  heaven  Jesus  must 
needs  have  died ;  and  it  cost  no  more  to  save  mil- 


YENSIE  WALTON.  367 

lions.  No  hard  cases  Godward ;  the  difference, 
the  hardness,  is  all  on  the  man  side,  on  the  yielding 
side.  I  have  known  men  who  prided  themselves 
particularly  on  being  hard  cases  for  God  to  save, 
simply  because  they  were  stubborn  ;  small  cause 
that  for  uplifting.  A  mule  is  not  considered  better 
than  a  horse,  and  a  man  who  is  convinced  an.d  does 
not  yield  at  once,  does  violence  to  his  own  man 
hood,  and  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  God.' 

"  Once  or  twice  that  night  he  said,  '  Little  Violet, 
the  first  sheaf  of  an  abundant  harvest  is  gathered 
from  your  death,  to-night.'  So  I  asked  him  her 
other  name,  and  where  she  had  lived,  for  I  was  so 
full  of  thankfulness  and  joy,  it  seemed  as  if  she 
and  everything  else  had  been  created  on  purpose 
to  help  me  to  heaven ;  and  then  he  told  me  the 
whole  story,  and  I  found  it  was  my  own  precious 
sister.  Oh,  father,  how  strange  it  seems  that  your 
little  Violet  should  bring  your  wandering  boy  back 
to  God  and  to  you !  " 

Old  Uncle  John  was  sobbing  like  a  child,  and 
Aunt  Sarah's  eyes  looked  suspicious.  Mildred  and 
Fred  had  both  hidden  their  faces  in  their  handker 
chiefs;  but  while  the  tears  were  streaming  over 
Ycnsie's  glowing  face,  she  still  kept  her  eyes  on 
George,  as  if  she  could  not  see  enough  of  one  who 
had  found  Jesus  through  that  which  had  cost  her 
such  bitter  heart-pangs. 

"  It  was  that  night,  or  rather  that  morning,  that 
Mr.  Gardenell  told  me  of  you,"  said  George,  ad- 


368  YENSIE   WALTON. 

dressing  Yensie.  "  He  said  you  were  little  Violet's 
cousin,  and  had  taught  her  to  love  Jesus.  So  you 
see,  little  sister,  in  one  way  I  owe  my  salvation  to 
you."  The  young  girl  smiled  brightly  through  her 
tears. 

"  And  then,  father,"  continued  the  young  man, 
"  he  bade  me  write  to  you,  and  tell  you  all  about 
my  conversion,  and  be  sure  to  tell  you  how  the 
story  of  little  Violet  helped.  I  did  try  to  write 
it,  but  to  no  use.  I  am  no  scribe.  So,  as  I  began 
to  get  homesick  like  for  the  old  faces,  I  thought 
I'd  come  and  tell  you  the  story." 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Gardenell  now  ?  "  inquired  Mr. 
Walton,  which  was  just  the  question  Yensie 
wished  to  ask. 

"  Travelling.  I  don't  know  that  you'll  ever  see 
him  around  these  parts  again ;  won't  if  they  can 
keep  him.  lie  told  me  lie  went  West  to  settle  an 
estate  for  an  aunt,  whose  husband  had  died  sud 
denly  ;  found  the  people,  many  of  them,  had  no 
Sabbath  service ;  pitied  them,  and  so  preached  to 
them.  That's  just  like  him,  you  know,  thought  it 
dreadful  that  anyone  should  live  without  knowing 
and  loving  Jesus. 

"  Well,  people  liked  his  preaching,  and  after  the 
estate  was  settled,  they  kept  sending  for  him,  from 
place  to  place,  and  everywhere  the  Lord  blessed 
him  (always  will)  and  he's  been  helping  folks  set 
tle  their  claims  to  heavenly  mansions  ever  since. 
He  left  our  town  .soon  after  I  was  converted.  I've 


YENSIE   WALTON.  369 

been  to  other  places  several  times  to  hear  him,  but 
not  for  awhile  past.  If  he'd  known  I  was  coming 
he'd  have  sent  his  love  I'm  sure,  he  loves  every 
body." 

When  George  spoke  of  Mr.  Gardenell's  object 
in  going  West,  Yensie  heard  Mildred  whisper  to 
her  mother :  "  That's  what  he  said  when  he  was 
here,"  and  Aunt  Sarah  nodded  a  hasty  assent. 
The  young  girl  longed  to  ask  when  that  was,  but 
dared  not,  and  so  it  passed  by  and  she  did  not 
know  he  had  sought  her. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 


"  O  thou  God  of  all  ! 

Grant  me  some  smaller  grace  than  comes  to  these, 
But  so  much  patience  as  a  blade  of  glass 
Grows  by  contented  through  the  heat  and  cold." 

— E.  B.  BARKETT. 


,T  was  a  very  new  but  pleasant  experience, 
this  having  a  big  brother  in  the  house. 
Everything  took  on  a  livelier  aspect  undei 
his  genial  spirit.  His  hearty  laugh  rang  through 
the  old  house,  provoking  others  to  join  in  it,  and 
even  Aunt  Sarah  could  not  wholly  resist  the 
power  and  warmth  of  his  presence. 

To  the  girls  he  was  always  kind.  Ready  to  d<? 
any  small  chores,  paying  them  attentions  to  which 
they  were  unaccustomed.  At  first  his  demonstra 
tive  way  of  showing  his  affection  almost  fright 
ened  Yensie.  It  was  nothing  unusual  now  to  be 
370 


YENSEE   WALTON.  371 

seized  suddenly,  on  the  way  up-stairs  and  landed 
at  her  door,  or  to  be  called  by  tender  names  when 
ever  addressed,  for  brother  George's  caresses  and 
kisses  were  as  plenteous  as  his  smiles,  and  his 
knee  was  never  unoccupied. 

The  one  who  chanced  to  be  nearest  was  drawn 
to  this  place  of  honor ;  and  even  Aunt  Sarah  had 
been  obliged  to  sit  there  several  minutes,  while 
Mildred  and  Fred  laughed. 

Fred  had  developed  a  taste  for  drawing,  seeing 
which  Yensie  had  done  her  best  to  forward  him, 
delighted  that  he  so  soon  surpassed  his  teacher, 
who  felt  her  talent  in  this  direction  deficient.  She 
had  fine  taste  however,  and  proved  an  admirable 
critic ;  her  acquaintance  with  eminent  works  of 
art  being  not  so  limited  as  the  rest  of  the  home 
circle. 

She  would  watch  him  with  delight,  as  turning 
his  head  this  way  and  that,  he  added  a  delicate 
touch  here,  a  firmer  one  there,  to  perfect  his  work. 
On  one  such  occasion,  Mildred  sat  down  to  watch 
as  well. 

"  Fred,  what  are  you  about?"  she  questioned. 
"  Do  you  ever  intend  to  call  that  picture  finished  ? 
I  am  sure  you  had  as  much  done  two  days  ago." 

"No,  no,  Milly,"  replied  the  boy.  "See,  I  have 
been  touching  up  this  sunset-cloud.  Then,  you 
know,  you  thought  yourself,  Mill,  that  the  little 
girl  looked  too  stiff;  she  doesn't  now,  does  she? 
Then  that  tree  bends  so  much  more  gracefully." 


872  YENSIE  WALTOF. 

"  Pshaw !  "  laughed  his  sister,  "  who'd  know  the 
difference  ?  and  you  have  been  all  this  time  over 
such  trifles." 

"  Why,  Milly,"  said  Yensie,  "  you  make  me 
think  of  something  I  read  about  the  great  Michael 
Angelo." 

"  What  was  it  ?  "  cried  Fred,  eagerly.  "  Oh, 
tell  us,  Yensie,  tell  us  !  " 

"  Yes,  tell  away,"  said  Mildred.  "  It's  wonder 
ful  if  /have  said  anything  that  reminds  you  of  a 
fusty  old  sculptor.  You'll  never  come  up  to  him, 
Fred." 

"  One  day,"  b£gan  Yensie,  "  a  gentleman  found 
the  great  sculptor  busy  over  what  looked  to  be  a 
figure  already  completed.  Angelo  was  chipping 
off  tiny  bits  here  and  there,  which  appeared  like 
very  unnecessary  work  to  his  visitor,  and  after 
watching  him  awhile  he  departed.  Some  dajrs 
after,  entering  the  studio  he  heard  the  '  click, 
click '  of  the  great  master,  and  to  his  astonishment 
found  he  was  still  engaged  chipping  from  the 
same  figure.  *  What,'  he  said,  '  still  at  work  on 
this  figure ;  I  see  no  difference.  What  have  you 
been  doing  ? ' 

"  But  Angelo  pointed  to  the  mouth.  '  Can  you 
not  see  that  lip  is  firmer,'  he  inquired,  '  this  eye 
more  expressive,  this  muscle  more  developed  ? ' 
*  Yes,'  replied  his  friend,  '  but  these  are  only  trifles.' 
'True,'  answered  the  wonderful  artist,  'they  are 


YENSIE  WALTON.  373 

but  trifles,  but  it  takes  trifles  to  make  perfection, 
and  perfection,  when  it  is  reached,  is  no  trifle.'  ' 

"  Good  and  true,"  said  George,  who  had  ap 
proached  unobserved,  and  heard  the  story ;  "perfec 
tion  surely  is  no  trifle." 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Mildred,  impatiently,  "  what 
possible  difference  can  it  make  to  people  like  me 
who  don't  know  how  to  appreciate  perfection  when 
they  see  it  ?  I'm  sure  I  shouldn't  have  noticed  the 
differences  in  Fred's  picture  if  he  hadn't  pointed 
them  out." 

"  But  he  would  know  himself,"  said  her  brother, 
"  and  would  feel  dissatisfied  with  less  than  the  best 
he  could  do  ;  then,  too,  we  are  told  in  the  good 
Book  that  whatsoever  we  do,  we  should  do  with 
our  might,  and  I  find  it  is  always  best  to  keep  to 
the  Book." 

The  few  words  between  Mildred  and  her  mother 
concerning  Herbert's  visit,  kept  recurring  to  Yen- 
sie's  mind,  and  she  felt  a  growing  desire  to  know 
when  he  had  been  there,  and  on  what  errand. 

Fred  knew  nothing  about  it ;  this  she  soon  ascer 
tained.  She  feared  to  ask  her  aunt,  of  whom  she 
still  had  a  wholesome  fear ;  and  at  last  she  decided 
to  appeal  to  Mildred. 

It  was  a  few  days  after  the  talk  over  Fred's  pic 
ture  that  she  ventured  her  first  question,  and  Mil 
dred,  who  was  particularly  out  of  sorts  just  then, 
answered  her  accordingly. 

"  How  do  I  know  when  he  came,  and  why  should 


374  YENSIE   WALTON. 

I  ask  him  his  errand  ?  I  have  enough  to  remember 
without  keeping  date  of  every  little  thing.  Some 
time,  I  suppose,  when  you  were  off  with  your  fine 
city  friends.  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  care,  any 
way  ;  or  is  he  one  of  your  upper-crust?  " 

Mildred  was  always  throwing  out  something 
about  Yensie's  fine  friends,  and  few  things  she 
could  do  or  say  so  aggravated  the  girl  as  this  did. 
When  Jessie  had  written  declaring  her  intention 
of  spending  Christmas  at  Valley  Farm,  Milly  had 
made  it  the  occasion  of  some  very  disagreeable  re 
marks  ;  and  now  the  old  temper,  which  was  not 
dead,  began  to  work  up  to  Yensie's  face,  and  she 
was  about  to  answer  hotly,  when  a  great  hand  was 
laid  gently  on  her  brown  hair,  and  George's  kind 
voice  said : 

"  Trifles,  little  sister,  trifles  !  Don't  forget  they 
make  perfection." 

"But  I  am  not  perfect,  and  never  shall  be," 
cried  the  girl,  regretfully,  raising  her  flushed  face 
to  his. 

"  Oh,  yes !  When  we  see  Him  as  he  is,  we  shall 
be  like  Him,  and  before  that,  Peter  says,  we  may 
be  partakers  of  the  divine  nature." 

He  sat  down  as  he  spoke,  and  drew  a  girl  to 
each  knee.  "  Now  let  me  hear  all.  What  did  lit 
tle  sister  ask  of  you,  Milly,  and  why  didn't  you 
answer  her?  " 

"  Because  I'm  hateful,"  answered  the  girl,  frankly. 
"  She  asked  me  about  Gardenell.  He  came  here 


YENSIE  WALTON.  375 

to  see  her  when  she  was  away,  and  we  forgot  to 
tell  her." 

"  And  yet  she  had  a  right  to  know,"  said  the 
young  man,  gravely.  "  Why  did  you  not  send  her 
word,  if  she  was  away  ?  " 

"  Why,  Alice  died,  and  her  letters  were  full  of 
that,  and  it  passed  out  of  my  mind  until  the  night 
you  came." 

"  And  then  ?  "  —  questioned  the  young  man. 

"  Why,  then  I  mentioned  it  to  mother,  and 
Yensie  heard  me,  and  has  been  plaguing  me  about 
it." 

"  Plaguing  you  ?  Be  honest,  little  sister,"  hold 
ing  back  Mildred's  head,  and  looking  into  her  eyes. 

"  No,  she  only  asked  me  when  he  was  here,  and 
if  I  knew  his  errand,"  owned  Milly,  laughing. 
"  You  see  I  am  not  perfection  either,  George." 

"  No,"  he  said,  gravely ;  "  and  more,  I  fear  you 
have  not  started  on  the  only  road  that  leads 
there." 

Then  turning  to  Yensie,  whose  face  was  a  study, 
with  its  conflicting  emotions  of  sorrow  at  her  own 
loss  of  temper,  indignation  at  Mildred's  accusa 
tion,  and  pleasure  at  the  result  of  the  investiga 
tion,  he  added,  playfully : 

"  And  now  little  Eve  is  satisfied,  is  she,  or  must 
we  send  to  the  parson  to  inquire  why  he  came  here 
to  see  her?  What,  I  haven't  hurt  you  ?  "  as  Yensie 
put  her  hand  to  her  hot  cheek,  striving  vainly  to 
restrain  her  tears.  Then  putting  Mildred  down,  he 


376  YENSIE   WALTON. 

threw  both  arms  about  the  slender  form,  while  ho 
whispered,  "  When  you  know  brother  George  bet 
ter,  you  will  understand  he  would  not  say  anything 
to  grieve  you  for  all  the  world." 

The  weeks  flew  by.  George  seemed  in  no  hurry 
to  depart ;  cold  weather  fully  settled  in,  but  Yensie 
did  not  forget  the  application  he  had  made  of  her 
little  story. 

Every  day  she  tried,  in  one  way  or  another,  to 
build  her  temple  more  perfectly  by  taking  care  of 
the  trifles ;  and  it  was  wonderful  how  many  little 
acts  of  kindness  she  found  to  do ;  how  many  small 
chances  to  deny  self,  when  she  was  looking  for 
them. 

This  did  not  escape  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  young 
man,  neither  did  the  difference  which  Mrs.  Walton 
made  in  her  treatment  of  the  two  girls. 

One  evening,  after  a  long  d&y  of  almost  unre 
mitting  toil,  such  as  George  feared  was  too  much 
for  so  delicate  a  child,  he  found  her  by  the  upper- 
hall  window,  cooling  her  feverish  brow  against  the 
frosty  pane.  All  day  he  had  tried  in  various  ways 
to  help  her,  and  he  judged  by  the  harsh  voice  he 
had  heard  but  a  little  while  before,  finding  fault  in 
the  kitchen,  that  she  was  being  blamed  unneces 
sarily. 

He  had  heard  her  go  into  the  hall  and  had  fol- 
fowed  her,  and  he  understood  why  her  face  looked 
sad  and  bitter,  as  she  leaned  wearily  against  the 
window. 


YENSIE   WALTON.  377 

He  came  behind  her  and  drew  her  to  his  arms, 
placing  his  cool  hand  on  the  brow  so  lately  pressed 
against  the  glass. 

"  My  little  sister  has  been  making  rapid  strides 
towards  perfection  these  few  weeks  past,"  he  whis 
pered.  "I  have  seen  one  little  brick  after  another 
placed  in  the  wall,  and  I  think  the  temple  looks 
very  fair  as  far  as  it  has  gone. 

She  tried  to  smile,  but  tears  would  come,  and 
she  hid  her  face  on  his  breast. 

"  I  am  not  the  only  one  that  sees  this,"  he  went 
on  as  if  unconscious  of  her  tears.  "  The  Master- 
builder  must  be  so  glad,  for  bricks,  though  trifles, 
make  walls.  You  are  not  living  in  vain  here, 
Yensie ;  when  you  are  gone  the  old  farm-house 
will  miss  you.  Mother  knows  who  she  can  trust 
with  something  particular,  I  see  that,  and  the  very 
fact  that  she  expects  so  much  from  you  is  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  uncommon  power  she  knows 
you  have  somewhere  within." 

Yensie  looked  up,  suddenly,  "  O  George,  how 
good  you  are ;  you  don't  know  how  you  help  me." 

"Do  I ?  Well,  I'm  glad,"  he  replied,  heartily. 
"  That's  what  we  are  here  for,  I  take  it ;  '  Bear  ye 
one  another's  burdens,'  and  if  you  can't  do  that 
the  next  best  thing  is  to  help  them  bear  them. 
But  then  it's  mutual,  my  little  sister  has  helped 
her  big  brother  very  much." 

-  Yensie 's  large  eyes  were  looking  into  his  with 
intense  questioning. 


378  YENSIE  WALTON. 

"  Don't  you  remember,"  continued  the  young 
man,  "  don't  you  remember  the  day  Fred  came  in 
so  angry,  because  some  fellow  made  fun  of  his 
lameness  ?  He  wanted  to  whip  him  and  was  sorry 
he  hadn't  tried  it.  I  felt  just  like  it  myself.  You 
didn't  know  I  heard  what  you  said  to  him.  '  Any 
fool  can  knock  another  down  if  he's  big  enough,' 
you  said,  '  that's  all  a  question  of  animal  force  ; 
but  it  takes  a  man  to  curb  his  own  spirit  enough 
to  walk  away  and  leave  a  coward  without  the 
dressing  he  deserves.  You  know  the  wisest  man 
that  ever  lived  says  :  '  He  that  ruleth  his  spirit,  is 
greater  than  he  that  taketh  a  city.'  ' 

"Now  I've  thought  of  that  ever  since  Yensie. 
You  and  I,  little  girl,  have  the  same  difficulty  to 
manage.  We  both  have  quick  tempers ;  but  you 
have  more  moral  courage  than  I  have.  I  ran 
away  from  this  house  to  be  rid  of  trial,  you  stay 
and  fight  it.  Yes,  I've  thought  of  your  words  to 
Fred  often  since.  I've  been  a  fool,  according 
to  your  rule,  pretty  often  and  thought  myself 
manly,  but  I  must  say,  I  covet  power  over  myself. 
I  always  did  like  to  be  boss  of  my  own  house  and 
farm,  how  much  more  of  my  own  mind  and  dispo 
sition." 

"  George,"  asked  the  girl,  thoughtfully,  "  how 
is  it  you  have  grown  so  fast  ?  You  have  only 
been  converted  a  few  months  but  you  seem  to 
understand  things  better  than  some  old  Chris 
tians." 


YENSIE  WALTON.  379 

"  I  don't  know  why,  unless  it's  because  I  was 
converted  clear  through,  "  was  the  reply.  "  Par 
son  Gardenell  had  no  shoddy  about  him,  and  he 
was  powerful  particular  to  see  that  none  of  his 
converts  had.  I  was  anxious  myself  to  be  first 
quality,  so  I  had  a  talk  with  him  about  it.  He 
said  something  like  this,  I  don't  suppose  I  get  just 
his  words :  '  Shoddy  looks  a  good  deal  like  the 
real  stuff,  Rogers,  and  some  people  can't  tell  the 
difference.  It  is  a  good  deal  harder  to  detect  it  in 
a  whole  garment,  than  in  a  small  piece.  If  you 
would  keep  your  life  free  from  it,  try  every  little 
bit ;  each  act,  and  thought,  and  word,  by  the  test 
of  God's  word,  and  you  won't  have  much  to 
regret.' 

"Now  I've  kind  of  kept  to  his  directions,  and  if 
I'm  not  just  certain  whether  the  Word  will  uphold 
me  in  a  thing  or  not,  I  wait  until  I've  had  time  to 
search,  and  so  I  find  when  I  take  a  step  it's  not  to 
be  gone  over  with  again.  There  is  such  a  thing 
you  know  the  Apostle  sa}rs  as,  '  Ever  learning  and 
never  able  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth.' " 

"  You  ought  to  love  Herbert  very  much,"  said 
Yensie,  softly. 

"I  do,"  was  the  quick  reply.  "I  never  had  a 
brother  to  know  how  it  would  work,  but  I  rather 
think  I  couldn't  love  him  if  I  had,  as  I  do  the 
young  parson.  Now,  suppose  you  sing  for  me  a 
little,  that's  one  of  the  gifts  God  has  denied  me. 


380  YENSIE   WALTON. 

I  used  to  love  to  hear  the  parson  sing,  '  Rock  of 
Ages.'  It  seemed  as  if  when  he  sang,  '  Let  me 
hide  myself  in  Thee,'  he  meant  it,  and  I  couldn't 
for  the  life  of  me  see  anything  but  Jesus  in  him 
for  a  whole  week  after.  Let  me  hear  you  sing 
that." 

And  Yensie  sang  it,  a  calm  and  peace  settling 
down  upon  her  heart,  as  she  remembered  who  sang  it 
with  her  last ;  dear  Alice  Grey,  beyond  earth's  toss 
ing  billows,  beyond  the  need  of  hiding. 

Jessie  came  at  the  Christmas  time,  as  she  had 
promised,  though  she  declared  to  do  so  she  had 
been  obliged  to  step  on  her  mother's  most  cherished 
plans,  and  wring  the  paternal  heart  with  agony. 

The  merry  girl  had  not  been  an  hour  in  the 
house  before  she  had  won  every  heart,  and  she  soon 
bore  unbounded  sway  over  Mrs.  Walton.  Her 
rank  in  life  had  quite  filled  that  good  lady  with 
awe,  and  her  free,  unostentatious  ways  made  good 
the  conquest.  So  from  the  day  she  came  until  she 
departed,  she  had  her  own  sweet  will  in  every 
thing. 

The  two  friends  shared  the  same  chamber  that 
night,  and  as  they  unfastened  their  braids  and  pre 
pared  for  bed,  there  was  much  talk. 

"  Who,  pray,  is  this  big  George  ?  "  asked  Jessie, 
gayly  ;  "  and  why  haven't  I  heard  of  him  before.'* 

"  He  is  Uncle  John's  adopted  son.     I  never  saw 


YENSIB   WALTON.  381 

him  myself  until  Thanksgiving  time,"  was  the 
reply. 

"  Seems  quite  at  home  with  you  for  all  that," 
said  the  merry  girl.  "  Oh  Yensie,  I  am  astonished  ! 
What  has  become  of  poor  Gardenell  ?  " 

Yensie  looked  up  inquiringly.  "  Mr.  Gardenell," 
she  said,  "is  out  West,  and  only  think,  Jessie, 
brother  George  was  converted  under  his  preach 
ing." 

"  Worse  and  worse,"  cried  Jessie,  brushing  vig 
orously  at  her  hair.  "  I  begin  to  hate  the  big  fel 
low,  to  think  after  Gardenell  has  been  kind  enough 
to  settle  that  little  job  for  him,  he  should  take  ad 
vantage  of  him  at  this  rate.  Or  (let  me  be  chari 
table),  perhaps  he  is  only  wooing  you  by  proxy  for 
his  spiritual  father,  or  does  not  know  the  minister 
has  looked  this  way  with  longing  eyes." 

"  Jessie,  what  a  naughty  girl  you  are,"  said  Yen 
sie,  half-laughing,  while  she  blushed.  "  George  is 
only  my  brother." 

"  Ah !  "  was  the  expressive  reply. 

"  And  I'm  sure  he  never  thought  of  such  a  thing, 
or  I,  either,"  continued  Yjsnsie. 

"  Indeed  !  what  a  pair  of  kids  you  must  be,"  re 
torted  her  companion,  mischievously.  "Here  am 
I,  who  never  had  a  lover  in  my  life ;  but  I  know 
enough  to  tell  when  somebody  else  has ;  and  if 
ever  girl  was  loved  you  are,  by  this  western  Lion." 

"  Oh,  Jessie,  Jessie,  what  makes  you  talk  so," 


382  YENSIE  WALTON. 

cried   Yensie,  deprecatingly.     "  What  makes  you 
think  so?" 

"  My  eyes,"  was  the  unhesitating  reply. 

"  But  I  know  you're  mistaken,"  said  Yensie,  des 
perately.  "  I  never  should  look  at  him  again,  if  I 
thought  so;  I'm  sure  I  shall  not  take  another 
moment's  comfort  while  he  is  here." 

"  Oh,  bless  your  little  heart,  don't  worry  about 
him,"  interrupted  Jessie.  "  If  you  don't  want 
him,  wh}-,.say  so.  I'll  take  him  off  your  hands  for 
a  few  weeks,  at  any  rate.  You  play  rather  cool, 
and  I'll  be  very  gracious.  I  am  your  particular 
friend ;  that  is  favorable." 

Yensie  looked  in  her  friend's  face  a  moment,  then 
flung  her  arms  about  her  neck,  laughing. 

"  You  are  a  very  naughty  child,  Jessie,  I  see 
that,"  she  said,  "  and  instead  of  asking  me  right 
out  if  I  had  any  objections  to  your  seizing  my  big 
brother,  you  have  taken  this  means  of  finding  out. 
I'll  forgive  you,  and  you  can  have  him  ;  but,  mark 
you,  I  like  the  straight-forward  course  far  better." 

"  And  this  is  the  reward  of  friendly  solicitude," 
responded  Miss  Crafton,  assuming  an  injured  air. 
"  Here  have  I,  from  the  purest  motives,  been  try 
ing  to  open  your  eyes  to  impending  disaster,  and 
thus  you  requite  me.  Ah,  friend  of  my  heart,  I 
can  illy  bear  this  at  your  hand  ;  but  think  not  I  re 
gret  my  words  of  warning,  never.  Suppose  I  had 
not  spoken  ;  suppose  this  thing  had  gone  on  ;  sup 
pose  these  two  youths  had  come  to  deadly  collision ; 


iTENSIE  WALTON.  883 

I  should  feel  the  blood  of  the  fallen  one  forever 
weighing  upon  my  guilt}7"  head.  Well,  I  have 
cleared  my  skirts  at  least." 

Yensie  greeted  this  harangue  with  a  merry  peal 
of  laughter  that  resounded  through  the  house,  and 
Jessie  joined  her  heartily. 

"  Honor  bright,  Yensie,"  she  said,  as  soon  as  she 
caught  breath  again ;  "  honor  bright,  I  do  believe 
George  is  in  love  with  you ;  he  may  not  know  it, 
but  he  looks  it.  There,  don't  look  so  dubious,  my 
darling.  I  hope  his  heart  is  not  broken  yet ;  if  so, 
there's  nothing  like  setting  it  properly.  You  re 
member  poor  Phebe  Babcock.  She  broke  her  arm 
at  school  the  year  before  you  came,  and  not  know 
ing,  let  it  knit.  It  had  to  be  broken  again  and  re 
set.  There  is  nothing  better  than  taking  disease 
in  time.  My  father  says  so,  and  he  is  a  first-class 
physician." 

Splendid  sleighing  and  a  full  moon  made  Christ 
mas  night  just  the  occasion  for  a  sleighing  party, 
and  Mr.  Walton's  two  large  sleighs  were  filled 
with  rollicking  girls  and  boys.  Singing  and  laugh 
ter  mingled  with  the  music  of  the  bells,  and  it  was 
late  before  the  last  passenger  was  dropped  from  the 
sleigh.  Mr.  Walton  drove,  and  he  and  his  niece 
were  left  alone. 

The  sleighs  had  separated  to  carry  their  respec 
tive  passengers  home,  and  as  Yensie  was  the  only 
one  from  Valley  Farm  in  Mr.  Walton's  sleigh,  it 
was  just  the  chance  he  coveted  for  a  long  talk.  A 
long  talk  indeed  it  proved,  of  other  days  and  loves. 


384  YENSEE   WALTON. 

The  maiden  was  astonished  at  the  revelations 
made  that  night.  Her  uncle  had  known,  and  loved, 
and  been  rejected  by  her  mother,  before  his  brother 
wooed  and  won  her. 

All  this  he  told  her  with  an  old  man's  fondness 
in  lingering  over  the  past,  and  ended  by  placing  in 
her  hand  an  old-fashioned  locket,  richly  carved,  and 
ornamented  with  pearls. 

"  Your  father  bade  me  give  you  this,  when  you 
had  reached  womanhood,"  he  said.  "  It  contains 
your  mother's  and  grandmother's  picture.  When 
you  have  looked  upon  your  mother's  face  perhaps 
you  will  realize  one  reason  why  you  have  been  so 
dear  to  me." 

Eagerly  the  young  girl  touched  the  spring  and 
her  uncle  stopped  the  horses,  and  by  the  light  of 
the  moon  she  examined  her  mother's  face. 

George  and  the  girls  had  arrived  sometime 
before  Yensie,  and  she  hurried  directly  to  her 
room,  impatient  to  show  her  treasure  to  Jessie.  It 
was  very  late  and  that  young  lady  was  in  bed 
apparently  sleeping.  But  Yensie  had  no  thought 
of  sleep,  and  seating  herself  in  a  low  rocker  she 
fell  to  dreaming. 

Presently  Miss  Craftpn  opened  her  eyes.  She 
watched  for  a  long  while,  the  thoughtful  face, 
then  asked  suddenly : 

"  Yensie,  what  are  you  thinking  about  ?  " 

The  young  girl  started  a  little.     She  had  not 


YENSIE  WALTON.  385 

thought  of  watchful  eyes,  but  she  answered  her 
immediately. 

"  I  was  wondering  if  two  men  loved  one  girl, 
and  one  of  these  men  was  gifted  and  cultured,  and 
had  much  in  himself  which  would  preserve  him 
from  wasting  his  .life,  even  if  he  lost  her  love, 
whether  she  ought  not  rather  to  marry  the  other ; 
even  if  she  did  not  love  him  so  well,  if  he  had  not 
these  qualities  in  himself  which  would  keep  him 
from  absolute  despair  and  worthlessness  ?  " 

"  In  other  words,"  said  her  friend,  "  a  woman 
should  throw  herself  away  upon  the  weakest  man 
she  can  find,  who  fancies  he  loves  her,  from  a 
quixotic  fancy  of  saving,  and  making  something  of 
him  ;  rather  than  help  build  a  good  man  higher  by 
giving  him  what  she  can,  her  heart.  It's  bosh,  all 
bosh.  I'm  astonished  at  you.  This  is  sentimen- 
talism  in  the  extreme.  How  much  good  can  any 
of  us  do  in  an  undertaking  to  which  we  bring  no 
heart  ?  Preserve  me  from  such  folly.  If  I  fall  in 
love  with  a  wise  man,  be  he  Solomon  the  second, 
I'll  marry  him,  provided  he'll  allow  me  to ;  if  I 
love  a  fool  I'll  marry  him,  if  I  can  get  him. 
That's  my  mind." 

"  Nonsense  Jess,  I  wouldn't." 

"  Wouldn't  what,  pray,  fall  in  love  with  a  fool  ? 
Well  I  didn't  promise  to,  did  I  ?  I  said  if.  And 
certainly  if  I  was  fool  enough  to  love  a  fool,  the 
next  step  in  foolishness  would  be  to  let  him  know 
it,  and  the  climax  of  foil}7,  to  marry  him.  I  never 


386  YENSIE   WALTON. 

like  half-and-half.  If  I  ever  am  a  fool  I  will  be 
a  prince  of  fools.  I  see  small  difference  between 
you  and  me  in  this.  I'm  sure  I'd  as  lief  marry  a 
fool  as  any  other  man  I  didn't  love,  but  to  marry 
an  unloved  half-fool  when  you  might  have  a  well- 
loved  wise  man  that's  beyond  the  reach  of  oppro 
brium  —  bless  me,  I'd  rather  marry  an  out-and-out 
idiot,  and  thus  prove  myself  one,  or  remain  single 
for  life  ;  which  two  things  are  very  like,  to  my  con 
ception." 

"  Why,  Jessie  Crafton !  Do  you  then  consider 
it  so  terrible  a  thing  to  live  unmarried  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do." 

"  I  am  very  happy  as  I  am,"  laughed  Yensie. 

"  Yes,  but  you  won't  always  be  what  you  are 
now,  my  chick,  that's  the  trouble.  Your  cheeks 
won't  always  be  round,  or  your  eyes  bright ;  there 
won't  always  be  a  dozen  fellows  sighing  for  the 
favor  of  picking  up  j-our  handkerchief.  Then 
when  you  get  so  easily  tired  over  trifles,  and  the 
wind  strikes  chills  through  you  in  July,  'twill  be 
very,  pleasant  to  have  a  tried  and  true,  whose  eyes 
retain  an  image  of  your  former  self,  to  get  your 
shawl  and  hand  you  a  cup  of  warm  drink,  and  tie 
your  night-cap  strings." 

And  Miss  Jessie  drew  about  her  fair  shoulders  a 
breakfast  shawl  lying  near,  lifted  a  goblet  from  the 
table  at  her  elbow,  with  a  trembling  hand,  turned 
down  her  lips  to  hide  her  teeth,  as  she  lifted  her 
head  for  the  imaginary  hands  to  tie  the  imaginary 


YENSIE  WALTON.  387 

cap-strings,  and  croaked  feebly  in  a  thin  voice, 
"  Thank  you,  dear  Herbert." 

Yensie  laughed  until  the  tears  ran  down  her 
cheeks.  "Jessie,  what  a  pity  you  haven't  a  larger 
audience ;  you  could  scarcely  have  a  more  appreci 
ative  one,  but  I  assure  you,  such  talents  should 
bless  the  world." 

"  Ah,  but  we  were  not  talking  about  blessing 
the  world,  but  about  blessing  a  fool  by  marrying 
him,"  quoth  Jessie. 

"No,  we  were  not,"  replied  Yensie,  a  little 
warmly,  and  with  strong  emphasis  upon  the  per 
sonal  pronoun.  "  You  were,  but  neither  of  the 
men  to  whom  I  alluded  were  fools,  and  I  was  only 
wondering,  not  concluding." 

"  I  know,  my  dear,  but,  '  Our  secret  thoughts 
work  themselves  out  into  acts.'  That's  what  Par 
son  Longface  said  once  and  I  give  him  credit  for 
it.  I  think  it  is  the  most  sensible  thing  he  ever 
said  in  his  life,  and  I  don't  want  my  own  familiar 
to  act  so  unwisely.  Besides  there's  no  need,  none 
in  the  least.  If  Herbert's  first  in  your  heart  take 
him  ;  George  will  not  throw  away  his  life,  I'll  war 
rant." 

"  Oh,  you  wicked  Puss,"  cried  Yensie,  rushing 
to  the  bed  and  tumbling  Miss  Crafton  most  uncer 
emoniously,  "  I  will  teach  you  to  draw  conclusions 
in  this  style.  The  gentlemen  you  named  were 
never  further  from  my  thoughts.  I  was  musing 


388  YENSIE   WALTON. 

over  a  story  I  heard  to-night  of  two  brothers,  one 
now  in  heaven,  the  other  an  old  man." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Jessie,  struggling  to 
free  herself  from  her  friend's  grasp.  "  Let  me 
sleep,  now,  and  I  promise  to  get  on  my  knees  to 
you  in  the  morning,  if  you  will  remind  me." 

"  No  need,"  replied  her  friend.  "  I  forgive  you, 
seeing  you  have  asked  pardon  '  right  proper,'  as 
Aunt  Sarah  says.  But  see,  I  have  received  such  a 
gift  to-night !  You  must  not  sleep  until  you  have 
gazed  at  my  mother's  face." 

Jessie's  eyes  were  as  wide  open  as  if  a  thought 
of  sleep  had  never  visited  her  brain,  ere  Yensie 
had  concluded  the  story  with  which  she  received 
the  locket. 

"  How  like  you  must  be  to  your  mother,  Yensie. 
I  should  think  it  your  picture,  if  it  was  not  for  the 
difference  in  the  way  the  hair  is  worn,  and  the  old- 
fashioned  dress.  This  is  an  elegant  old  locket," 
examining  it  curiously.  "  As  I  live,  here  is  another 
spring,  and  two  locks  of  hair." 

Another  moment  and  Jessie  was  out  of  bed,  and 
two  young  faces  bent  above  the  locks  of  hair ;  one 
very  dark  and  curling,  the  other  a  light  brown. 

The  cock  was  crowing  in  the  barn-yard  before 
the  excited  young  girls  had  ceased  their  surmis- 
ings,  and  stilled  themselves  to  sleep,  and  then  Yen 
sie  dreamed  of  her  mother. 

The  time  of  Jessie's  stay  passed  away  all  too 


YENSIE  WALTON.  389 

rapidly,  and  one  day  George  and  Yensie  left  her 
in  the  train  steaming  out  of  the  depot,  and  re 
turned  rather  sadly  to  the  farm-house.  Everybody 
missed  her  merry  laugh  and  gay  little  speeches, 
and  when  George  began  to  talk  of  starting  home 
to  prepare  for  spring  planting,  Yensie  wished 
heartily  she  might  go  somewhere  too,  for  she 
dreaded  the  settling  back  into  the  old  ruts,  the 
worn  paths  of  duty  which  every  foot  was  expected 
to  tread  daily.  It  came,  too,  after  awhile,  her  call 
to  go  ;  but  not  before  she  had  tried  the  old  life 
again,  and  missed  George's  ready,  helpful  hand. 

"  Aunt  Jule  wants  you,"  wrote  Jessie,  "  and  I'm 
so  glad,  if  only  you'll  be  a  good  child  and  go  to 
her.  I  have  left  Madame  —  couldn't  stand  it 
another  week ;  and,  O  be  joyful !  I  expect  to 
spend  next  summer  at  Newport.  Do  please  accept 
Aunt  Jule's  offer,  and  I  shall  have  you  there  as 
well." 

Which  meant  just  this ;  that  Mrs.  Germaine 
was  anxious  to  secure  Yensie  as  governess  for  her 
children,  and  Miss  Crafton  was  in  a  fever  of  ex 
citement  until  sure  she  would  accept. 

The  salary  was  liberal,  Yensie  anxious  to  depart. 
So,  although  Mr.  Walton  raised  many  objections, 
they  were  speedily  overruled,  as  his  wife  warmly 
seconded  this  desire  of  her  niece  to  be  indepen 
dent. 

She  must  have  a  good  outfit,  her  uncle  said, 
which  was  the  signal  for  a  grand  sew,  Miss  Mil- 


390  YENSIE  WALTON. 

dred  declaring  if  she  got  as  much  when  she  was 
married,  she  would  be  satisfied.  To  this  her 
mother  answered,  that  if  she  didn't  marry  more 
sensibly  than  things  looked  lately,  she'd  get  noth 
ing,  and  her  daughter,  retorting  saucily,  went  out 
of  the  room  slamming  the  door. 

Yensie  sighed.  These  scenes  between  her  aunt 
and  Mildred  were  frequent  of  late,  and  the  young 
girl  increasingly  disrespectful.  She  entertained 
fears,  too,  that  her  cousin  held  clandestine  meet 
ings  with  somebody,  for  she  saw  her  quite  often 
slipping  out  of  the  front  door  after  dark,  when 
least  likely  to  be  missed. 

One  night  Yensie  expostulated  with  her,  but  in 
vain.  Mildred  only  taunted  her  with  her  religion, 
and  begged  her  to  run  and  report  like  a  good  girl. 

Poor  Yensie,  she  hardly  knew  what  to  do.  She 
longed  to  have  her  cousin  detected  for  her  own 
sake,  and  yet  feared  to  speak  her  surmisings,  know 
ing  that  thereby  she  would  but  bring  her  aunt's 
displeasure  on  her  own  guiltless  head.  Perhaps  if 
she  was  not  there  to  fill  the  evenings  with  song 
and  reading,  their  eyes  would  be  opened.  This 
hope  strengthened  her  purpose  to  depart. 

The  sewing  was  soon  done,  Yensie  ready  to  go. 
"The  morning  of  her  departure,  Fred  surprised  her 
by  appearing  at  the  late  breakfast  table  with  quite 
a  little  bunch  of  the  sweet-scented  trailing  arbutus. 

As  she  stepped  aboard  of  the  cars,  her  uncle 
passed  her  a  package. 


TENSIE  WALTON.  391 

"  It's  the  makings  of  a  silk  dress,"  he  said. 
"  Sally  don't  know  anything  about  it,  but  I  knew 
you'd  need  one.  I  wrapped  up  a  bill  in  it  for  the 
fixins,  and  you  may  need  a  new  cloak.  God  bless 
you ;  if  ever  you  get  short,  let  me  know.  I  go 
after  the  letters  rnostty,  and  nobody'll  know  if  you 
don't  wish  'em  to.  There,  there,  it  seems  as  if  I 
was  losing  you.  God  bless  you,  God  bless  you. 
Yes,  God  bless  us  all"  —  winking  very  fast  as  he 
strove  to  clear  his  voice.  "  You've  been  a  good 
girl,  and  this  is  always  your  home,  remember." 

For  answer,  Yensie  threw  her  arms  about  his 
neck,  and  kissed  his  furrowed  cheek.  She  was 
actually  launching  out  into  the  world  for  herself. 
She  thought,  with  no  small  emotion,  would  she 
ever  see  that  dear  old  face-  and  Valley  Farm 
again  ? 

But  here  we  must  leave  our  little  country  girl, 
used  to  the  simple  farm  life,  about  to  enter  the  gay 
city,  and  one  of  its  most  fashionable  homes.  We 
know  she  will  carry  Christ  with  her,  and  with  this 
we  must  be  content  at  present,  hoping  some  day, 
not  far  hence,  God  willing,  to  follow  her  farther. 
Until  then,  dear  readers,  in  the  words  of  Uncle 
John,  "God  Bless  Us  All." 

THE  END. 


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RUBY  HAMILTON.  OLD  AND  NEW  FRIENDS. 

SEBA'S  DISCIPLINE. 

Extracts  from  comments  of  well-known  j  ournals . 
RUBY  HAMILTON. 

This  is  a  very  excellent  Sunday-school  book,  which  can  be 
honestly  commended  for  youthful  readers. —  The  Watchman. 

It  is  a  well-told  story,  conveys  a  pure,  healthful  lesson,  and 
is  one  of  the  best  books  of  its  class. — Philadelphia  Enquirer. 

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long  and  admirable  list.  The  story  is  a  sweet  one,  and 
charmingly  told. — Church  Mirror. 

The  spirit  throughout  is  healthy  and  devout.  .  .  .  Al 
together  it  is  a  charming  and  instructive  book. —  The  Clmrch- 
man. 

OLD  AND  NEW  FRIENDS. 

A  very  excellent  specimen  of  the  class  of  fiction  designed 
for  young  folk  who  have  ceased  to  be  children  without 
having  become  mature  men  and  women. — N.  Y.  Evening 
Post. 

Many  readers  will  remember  "  Ruby  Hamilton,"  a  volume 
which  created  quite  a  sensation  at  the  time  of  its  publication. 
.  This  volume,  a  continuation  of  this  story,  ought  to 
become  as  popular  as  its  predecessor. — Christian  Mirror. 

Contains  some  charming  pictures  of  home-life.  .  .  . 
Cannot  but  help  and  strengthen  the  boy  whose  impulses 
are  for  good. — Herald  and  Presbyter. 

Like  all  that  comes  from  this  author's  pen,  this  volume 
has  merits  of  both  substance  and  style. —  Western  Christian 
Advocate. 

Adds  another  to  the  list  of  really  goo-3  story  books. — 
Cincinnati  Journal  and  Messenger. 

SEBA'S  DISCIPLINE. 

A  good  book  to  teach  the  uses  of  trouble  in  building  up  char 
acter. —  Western  Recorder. 

Has  a  varied  and  absorbing  interest  from  its  beginning  to  its 
close.  .  .  .  Sometimes  sad  and  wonderfully  pathetic ;  some 
times  bright  and  cheerful,  it  is  impressive  always.  In  every 
respect  it  is  the  best  religious  story  we  have  seen  for  many  a 
day,  and  one  .  .  .  that  can  scarcely  fail  to  benefit  any 
reader  whom  God  leads  along  rough  paths. —  The  Interior. 

Should  be  in  every  Sunday-school  library. —  The  Standard. 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  Publishers,  Boston. 


SOME   SPECIAL    LOOKS 

FOR    NEIGHBORHOOD    CLUBS. 

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ence,  we  suggest  the  following  : 

I.  The  Reading1   Union  Library,   a  series  prepared  for  the 
Cliautauqua  Young  Folks'   Reading  Union,  $1.00  a  volume,  fully  illus 
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history,  by  Miss  A.  B.   Harris,  and  including  the  author's  curious  experi 
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the  rocks  of  danger,  as  described  by  eighty-three  business  men,  in  re 
sponse  to  inquiries  by  the  author,  Rev.  F.  £,.  Clark,     Price,  60  cents. 

III.  For  reading  after  or   in  connection  with,  the  above,  there  are 
three  volumes  about  those  who  have  worked  and  won  :  (a)  Men  of  Mark, 
(b)  Noble  Workers,  (c)  Stories  of  Success  ;  to  which  may  well  be  added 
(d)  A   Noble  Life  ;  or,  Hints  for  Living,  by  Rev.  O.  A.  Kingsbury; 
each  volume,  $1.25. 

IV.  Charlotte  M.  Yonge's  Young  Folks'  Histories,  $1.50  a 
volume  : 

Your.g  Folks'  Hjstory  of  Germany.      Young  Folks'  History  of  England. 
Young  Folks'  History  of  Greece.          Young  Folks'  History  of  France, 
Young  Folks'  History  of  Rome.  Young  Folks'  Bible  History. 

V.  Lothrop's  Library  of  Entertaining  History.    Edi 
ted  by  Arthur  Gilman,  M.  A.      Each  volume  has  one  hundred  illustra 
tions.     These  histories  are  designed  to  furnish  in  a  succinct  but  interesting 
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those  busy  readers  who  cannot  devote  themselves  to  the  study  of  detailed 
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A  merica,  by  Arthur  Gilman,  M.  A.  ;  India,  by  Fannie  Roper  Feudge  ; 
Egypt,  by  Mrs.  Clara  Erskme  Clement ;  Spain,  by  Prof.  James  Albert 
Harrison ;  Switzerland,  by  Miss  Harriet  D.  S.  Mackenzie. 

VI.  Popular   Biographies,  of  great  and  good  men,  whose  ef 
forts  and  accomplishments  cannot  fail  of  helpful  suggestions   to  young 
people.     Each  volume  illustrated.     Price  $1.50. 

Abraham  Lincoln.  Daniel  Webster.  Benjamin  Franklin. 

Horace  Greeley.  Charles  Sumner.  Amos  Lawrence. 

Henry  Wilson.  James  A.  Garfield.  Israel  Putnam, 

Bayard  Taylor.  George  Peabody.  John  G.  Whittier. 

Henry  W.  Longfellow.  Charles  Dickens.  David  Livingstone. 

Washington.  William  the  Silent.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

The  above  books  sent,  post-paid  on  receipt  of  price.  Send  for  full 
catalogue  of  more  than  a  thousand  volumes,  including  many  volumes  of 
story,  ^biography,  travel  and  adventure  equally  desirable  with  the  above 
for  neighborhood  clubs  and  reading  circles. 

D.  LiOTHEOP  &  CO.,  Publishers,  Boston. 


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Tin:  LORD'S  PURSEBEARERS.  By  Hesba  Stretton. 
Bnsii-n.  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.25.  The  name  of 
He.-ba  iStretton  is  too  well  known  in  English  literature 
to  render  it  necessary  to  make  special  commendation  of 
any  work  from  her  pen.  No  writer  of  religious  fiction 
elands  higher  in  England,  and  there  is  not  a  Sunday-school 
library  where  some  one  of  her  volumes  may  not  be  found. 
She  has  the  faculty  of  entertaining  and  instructing  at  the 
same  time.  The  present  publishers  have  made  special 
arrangements  with  her  for  the  production  in  this  country 
of  her  latest  work,  and  the  probabilities  are  that  all  her 
future  books  will  bear  their  imprint.  In  The  -LortT.s 
Purxrbcarers  the  author  draws  a  terrible  picture  of  life 
among  the  vicious  poor  in  London  streets,  and  shows 
by  what  shifts  the  professional  beggars  and  thieves  of 
the  great  Babylon  manage  to  live  and  thrive  on  the  mis 
placed  charity  of  the  pitying  well-to-do  population.  She 
arouses  a  strong  feeling  of  sympathy  for  the  children  who 
are  bred  in  the  haunts  of  vice,  and  who  are  instructed 
in  crime  before  they  are  old  eliough  to  know  the  meaning 
of  the  word.  The  story  is  one  of  intense  interest,  and 
the  characters,  especially  those  of  old  Isaac  Chippendell, 
his  granddaughter  Joan,  and  little  Lucky,  are  forcibly 
drawn.  One  can  hardly  believe  that  such  places  exist 
or  that  such  deeds  are  perpetrated  as  are  here  described, 
but  one  who  is  familiar  with  London  and  its  streets  knows 
that  they  are  no  exaggerations.  The  volume  is  illustrated. 


THE  AFTERGLOW  OF  EUROPEAN  TRAVEL.  By  Adelaide 
L.  Harrington.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.50. 
This  pleasant  record  of  experiences  abroad  will  delight  those 
who  have  gone  over  the  same  ground,  as  well  as  those  who 
have  never  strayed  beyond  the  bounds  of  their  own  country. 
It  is  not  a  connected  story  of  travel,  but  consists  of  reminis 
cences  and  descriptions  of  various  spots  and  objects  which 
made  the  deepest  and  most  lasting  impression  upon  the 
writer. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 

A  FORTUNATE  FAILURE.  By  Caroline  B.  LeRow.  Bos- 
con:  D.  Lotlirop  &  Co.  Price  $1.25.  The  author  of  this 
charming  book  is  widely  known  as  a  successful  writer  of 
magazine  stories,  and  any  thing  from  her  pen  is  sure  of  a 
multitude  of  readers.  Her  style  is  clear  and  flowing,  and 
she  is  peculiarly  happy  in  the  invention  of  incidents.  Iu 
the  present  volume  her  powers  are  shown  at  their  best.  The 
principal  character  of  the  story  is  Emily  Sheridan,  the 
bright,  ambitious  daughter  of  a  New  Hampshire  farmer, 
•whose  pride  and  comfort  she  is.  Taken  from  her  quiet  sur 
roundings  by  a  rich  aunt  and  placed  at  a  distant  boarding- 
school,  she  meets  new  friends,  and  new  paths  are  opened  to 
her  in  life.  It  is  the  author's  plan  to  trace  her  development 
under  the  changed  and  varying  influences  which  surround 
her,  and  to  show  how  she  is  affected  in  heart  and  mind  by 
them.  Nothing  can  change  the  Jiatu.al  sweetness  of  her 
character,  however,  her  experiences  serving  only  to  ripen 
and  bring  out  the  finer  and  higher  qualities  of  her  nature. 
In  one  of  her  companions,  Laura  Fletcher,  the  author  draws 
the  type  of  a  certain  class  of  girls  to  be  found  everywhere  — 
bright,  warm-hearted,  full  of  life,  and  tinctured  with  tomboy- 
ism  and  a  love  of  slang.  Maxwell  King  is  another  well-de 
lineated  character  bearing  an  important  part  in  the  story. 
We  do  not  propose  to  sketch  the  plot  in  detail;  that  would 
spoil  it  for  most  readers,  and  we  do  not  wisli  to  deprive 
them  of  the  pleasure  they  will  find  in  reading  the  story  for 
themselves. 


MARY  BURTON  ABROAD.  By  Pansy.  111.  Boston:  D. 
Lotlirop  &  Co.  Price  75  cents.  This  pleasant  book  is  made 
up  of  a  series  of  letters  supposed  to  have  been  written  from 
gome  of  the  great  cities  of  Europe,  principally  Edinburgh 
and  London.  They  contain  information  about  objects  of 
interest  in  these  places,  descriptive  and  historical,  and  are 
Britten  in  that  gossipy,  unconventional  style  which  is  pleas 
ing  to  children. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS.  _ 

NEXT  THINGS.  By  Pansy.  A  Story  for  Little  Fo'ks. 
Fully  illustrated.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.00. 
This  is  a  bright  little  story  with  two  heroes,  and  the  lessou 
it  tries  to  teach  young  readers  is  to  do  the  work  that 
lies  nearest  to  them  first;  in  other  words,  "What  to  do 
'next.  No  one  can  do  the  second  thing;  he  caii  do  the  first." 
Bound  up  in  the  same  cover  is  a  capital  story  called 
."Dorrie's  Day,"  in  which  are  related  the  adventures  of  a 
little  girl  who  went  to  sleep  in  the  cars  and  got  carried  out 
of  her  way.  The  history  of  what  she  did,  and  how  she  got 
home,  will  interest  the  children. 

MRS.  HARRY  HARPER'S  AWAKENING.  A  Missionary 
story  by  Pansy.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.00. 
This  is  one  of  Pansy's  "  lesson  books,"  in  which,  under  the 
guise  of  a  story,  she  drives  home  a  truth  so  thoroughly  that 
the  dullest  and  most  unimpressible  reader  cannot  help  seeing 
and  feeling  it.  Mrs.  Harry  Harper  was  a  young  wife  in  a 
strange  city,  without  acquaintances,  and  with  nothing  to  do 
during  the  long  hours  of  the  day  while  her  husband  was  ab 
sent  at  his  business.  One  day  in  walking  aimlessly  along 
the  street  she  follows  a  crowd  of  ladies  into  what  she  sup 
poses  is  a  bazar,  but  what  she  soon  discovers  to  be  a  mis 
sionary  meeting.  Her  attention  is  excited  by  what  she  sees 
and  hears  ;  her  sympathies  and  religious  feelings  are 
awakened,  and  she  enters  into  practical  Christian  work  with 
all  her  heart  and  soul.  The  book  is  one  of  serious  purpose 
and  falling  into  the  hands  of  people  like  Mrs.  Harper  will  be 
a  means  of  undoubted  good. 

PIZARRO;  or,  The  Discovery  and  Conquest  of  Peru.  Il 
lustrated.  Edited  by  Fred  H.  Allen.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop 
&  Co.  Price  $1.00.  This  is  the  third  volume  in  Mr.  Allen's 
valuable  little  series,  and  is  a  concise  and  interesting  history 
of  a  country  which  at  this  very  moment  is  undergoing  a 
conquest  as  bloody  and  exhaustive  as  that  which  occurred 
350  years  ago,  when  the  Spanish  ancestors  of  the  present 
race  of  Peruvians  carried  fire  and  slaughter  into  the  homes 
of  the  native  inhabitants.  The  story  is  told  with  spirit, 
and  with  enough  detail  to  enable  the  reader  to  get  a  clear 
and  connected  idea  of  the  different  campaigns  of  Pizarro  in 
South  America  from  the  time  of  his  landing  on  its  shores  in 
1509  until  his  assassination  by  his  own  countrymen  in  hie 
bouse  in  Lima  in  1541. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 


OUT  AND  ABOUT.  By  Kate  Tannatt  Woods.  Illustrated. 
Boston  :  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.50.  Every  boy  and 
girl  in  the  country  used  to  delight  in  the  Bodley  books, 
and  here  is  a  volume  which  is  in  all  respects  their  worthy 
successor.  It  is  based  upon  something  like  the  same  plan, 
in  that  it  takes  a  whole  family,  instead  of  a  single  member 
of  it,  about  the  country  sight-seeing.  We  might  rather  say 
two  whole  families,  for  that  is  just  what  the  author  does. 
The  Hudsonsand  the  Marstons  are  neighbors  in  the  vicinity 
of  Boston,  and  the  children  are  great  friends.  They  all  go 
to  Cape  Cod  and  Nantucket  to  spend  the  summer,  and  from 
there  the  Hudsons  are  called  away  to  San  Francisco  by  Col. 
Hudson,  who  is  an  army  officer,  and  is  stationed  there. 
The  book  describes  their  stay  on  the  Cape,  and  their  long 
overland  journey  to  the  Pacific  coast.  Its  interest  is  not 
wholly  confined  to  the  members  of  the  party,  for  the  author 
takes  special  pains  to  give  correct  and  vivid  pictures  of  the 
various  places  visited.  The  illustrations  are  some  of  the 
best  ever  put  into  a  children's  book,  and  are  many  from 
drawings  and  photographs  made  on  the  spot. 

CHRONICLES  OF  THE  STIMPCETT  FAMILY.  By  Abby 
Morton  Diaz.  Boston  :  D.  Lothrop  &  Co.  Price  $1.25. 
Some  one  once  said,  "  Give  a  Frenchman  an  onion  and  a 
beef-bone,  and  he  will  make  a  dozen  different  kinds  of 
delicious  soup."  Give  Mrs.  Diaz  two  or  three  simple  inci 
dents,  and  she  will  manufacture  half  a  dozen  stories  so 
sprightly  and  jolly,  and  so  full  of  every  day  human  nature 
withal,  that  to  the  young  they  are  a  source  of  perennial 
delight,  while  the  old  people  can  get  as  much  enjoyment  out 
of  them  as  from  a  volume  of  Scott  or  Dickens.  This  new 
book,  which  has  never  seen  the  light  in  any  newspaper  or 
magazine,  will  be  ready  in  ample  time,  for  the  holidays,  and 
the  father  who  wants  to  make  his  little  ones  perfectly  happy 
at  that  time  will  take  good  care  to  secure  a  copy.  The 
Stimpcetts  have  a  "  Family  Story  Teller,"  and  the  wonder 
ful,  queer,  strange  and  funny  stories  which  this  individual 
has  treasured  up  in  his  memory,  and  retails  to  the  children 
on  various  occasions,  will  be  laughed  over,  and  talked  over, 
and  thought  orer,  until  the  author  is  ready  with  anoi.her 
volume, 


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